


Forgiveness

by AndShadowsWatchingOverMe



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: AU, Alternative Universe - Regular High Shool, Anxiety, Attempting to be a Better Person, Bully Victim Ryou, Bullying, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fighting, Former Delinquent Yami Marik, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of past child abuse, Minor Violence, No card games, Out of Character, Stalking, Unreliable Narrator, anger management issues, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-02-05 11:52:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 71,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12793986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndShadowsWatchingOverMe/pseuds/AndShadowsWatchingOverMe
Summary: Marik, a former bully, has changed a lot after spending a year in Egypt with his relatives. Now back home in Domino City he has to prove himself to the people who still see him as a brute with a violent streak. It's turning out to be a harder task than he'd imagined, though, especially when the boy who started a lot of it for him enters the picture.Bakura Ryou. Marik wants to prove to him he has changed, but Ryou seems to be dealing with problems of his own and has no time for the boy who used to bully him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Whoo boy. This is my first time posting anything here and I'm kind of nervous. This fic has been a personal project for maybe two years now, something I've written every now and then and now I've finally managed to bully myself into uploading it somewhere. 
> 
> I just felt like writing some deathshipping, to be honest. No other reason for it. Hope it'll make someone else happy. Writing it has been a pleasure, if nothing else. 
> 
> Beware the OOC and the spelling errors of a non-native English writer attempting to pretend like she knows fancy words and prepositions.

Domino High.

This was not a place Marik had thought he’d be returning to after his rather abrupt departure almost a whole year ago, but here he was, looking up at the building before him. He stood still for a long moment, students walking past him and shooting questioning glances his way. In the sea of pale teens the tall and dark boy stood out like a sore thumb.

It was hard to believe that he’d been gone for only a year. It had felt like so much more. He had hardly even begun his life as a high schooler before being whisked away from the house he was supposed to call home and sent off to live with his cousins far away in Egypt. It felt like he hadn’t seen this place in ages. He had been a different person when he left, both physically and mentally. At least, that was what he would have liked to believe.

He had given much thought to coming back to… this. His life as it had been before his departure hadn’t been that great. Hell, it had been pretty shitty, to be honest. A smart man would have moved on. Maybe tried to get into another school, where no one would recognize him. Start anew. But here he was. And as much as Marik hated admitting it, he was nervous. His whole body was jittery and the palms tucked safely in the pockets of his hoodie were sweaty.

But it was okay. If there was one thing Marik had learned during his time away from home, it was that repressing his emotions would do him no good. If he kept on bottling everything up, like he had done before, it would all blow up. Things would get out of hand and bite him in the ass later. Again.

Marik sighed. Damn it. His cousins Malik and Ishizu had known how to deliver those one-two-punches of wisdom that had sent him staggering. Those two had really known how to kick his emotions in the gut and now it was time to face the music. He knew from experience that what they had said about repressing and all that shit was true. He breathed in a wavering breath and held it.

He’d been gone for a year. If he was lucky, most of the students wouldn’t even recognize his face. He let out the breath in a loud gasp only when it became absolutely unbearable to hold it longer.

Hiding his nervousness behind a scowl and his hands deep in his pockets where there would be no danger of him accidentally decking a fellow student, Marik marched across the schoolyard and into Domino High. His mind buzzed with the strange familiarity of the place and all sorts of memories flooded back to him. He’d kicked a kid’s ass there, shoved another one into his locker there. Mostly bad stuff, childish behavior, those sorts of things.

He tried not to smile bitterly as the dark thoughts swirled in his head. He didn’t regret any of it, Marik had told himself a year prior. There was no point, right? For a short moment he’d felt like the king of the school. Those actions had shaped him to the person he was today, so there was no reason he should feel bad about any of it, right?

Hadn’t stopped him from lying awake at night, though. Ishizu had said that the first step into moving forward was to stop lying to yourself and accepting your past actions, but that had been one of the hardest things Marik had ever been forced to do. There was darkness inside him. Sometimes he got mad. He had tried to cope and gone at it the wrong way. And there had been repercussions.

Marik ground his teeth together. Ishizu was right. Of course she was. And that meant he would have to do his best to mend at least some of the mistakes he had made. He’d made a promise to them. He was going to start over, do better this time. He was going to fix things.

Finding the school counselor proved an easy enough task and soon the tense teen was taken to what was to be his homeroom. He guessed the staff had already been informed about the situation, since most of the teachers would have had less than satisfactory memories about the old school bully with a personality straight out of hell. His homeroom teacher was stuttering in her introduction, nervous beyond belief. She must have been new. Marik couldn’t remember her face or name from before, but it was clear to him that she had already been warned about his previous actions. So they had decided to throw the newbie to the wolves, Marik thought as he was welcomed into the homeroom. He guessed this was as good time to feel pity as any.

Marik checked his timetable as they were released. The student body mulled about, casting him no second glances. He must have been at least a head taller than most of them having hit his final growth spurts during his time in Egypt and with his messy head of hair Marik drew a threatening picture. He certainly would have drawn more attention to himself had this particular school not hosted people with even wackier hairdos than his. The other students’ eyes just skimmed past him like he wasn’t there at all. Just another new student at the start of the school year. Most of these people didn’t even know who he was – or who he had been. But it wouldn’t take long for the rumors to resurface.

He peered at the tiny print on his timetable like trying to decipher a code. Math. History. Boring. Then lunch and biology followed by PE. He scrunched his brows, unsure what to feel. This all just seemed so… normal. It’d been a year since he’d been to this place and now everything was just so damn normal.  
Like nothing had changed in his absence.

But that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Everything had changed. Or at least he had. And as far as Marik was concerned, that changed pretty much everything.

The teachers had him introduce himself in both math and history. The history teacher was new and either uninformed or didn’t care, but the math teacher remembered him and kept things short. There was no love between them there, Marik hadn’t showed up to many of her classes before. The cold tone the teacher used when telling him where to sit told Marik that this was not going to be a cakewalk. The threat in her voice was clear, “Behave, or else,” the teacher said in everything but words.

And Marik accepted that. After the hellion he had been, he shouldn’t have expected anything less.

It didn’t mean he had to like it, though.

By the lunch the rumor mills had already started to spin and churn out stories about the tan, tall teen that was skulking at the sidelines of the crowds. Marik spotted worrying glances thrown his way. The students wouldn’t speak to him and those brave enough to look his way did so only when they thought he couldn’t see. They covered their mouths to hide their whispers. Like that was going to help anything.

Marik didn’t want to hear what they were saying behind his back. Why would he? Hearing his misdeeds spoken back and forth, warped and exaggerated into oblivion was not going to do him any good, so he might as well pretend like everything was just fine. It wasn’t like things would get better if he told them to cut it out.

But by the time he brought his tray of food to an almost empty table and managed to scare off the two girls already sitting there, he was starting to develop a hefty headache behind his left eye. He had a bad feeling it would start twitching soon, and wasn’t that going to be a sight? He wanted nothing more than to just get out of there, out of the damn school and… To be honest, most of these people around him were probably expecting that out of him already.

But he wouldn’t do it. The advice received just before leaving Egypt was still fresh in his mind. Don't give up. Don't be what they expect you to be. It was going to be tough for a while, but once he’d get past the hurdles, it’d be better.

So he swallowed down his anger with his medication and made it to biology. At least there the teacher didn’t force him to stand awkwardly in front of the class for the people to ogle. And for a moment it seemed like it was going to turn out fine.

That would have been nice. He got to sit by himself in the class, no one was bothering him and he could have had a chance to do something about his embarrassingly bad grades. But it was after biology when Marik remembered where things had gone wrong in the first place. After biology things took a turn for the worse.

It was because Marik saw him.

It was the touch of white in the sea of students that caught his eye. He shouldn’t have looked. He would have recognized that head of hair anywhere and he should have known better. But it had been over a year since he’d last seen the guy and Marik couldn’t stop himself.

Bakura Ryou.

Marik's heart started to beat faster. His palms were getting sweaty again and he couldn't move from his spot. The other students got out of his way, scattering away in fear as he followed the guy with his eyes.

Bakura Ryou had not changed much. His hair was a little longer and he wore it on a ponytail now and he had grown thinner and taller while Marik was away, but there was no way Marik wouldn’t have recognized him. All that was missing was that annoying gaggling gang of friends that he’d used to hang around with.

Where was the “Friendship Gang” now? Back then they had been insufferably inseparable.

The pale boy scuffled around the student body, making his way closer to Marik and suddenly the former bully found his ability to move again. But where he should have turned around and walked away, he found himself drawing nearer. He couldn't stop himself, or that was what he was going to tell himself afterwards. He just wanted to get a little closer, just a little bit. It wasn’t like he was going to do anything. There was no way that was a bad idea, right?

Wrong. It was a very bad idea indeed.

As Bakura Ryou walked closer, his eyes on the ground instead of the people around him, a collision was inevitable. And Marik did nothing to prevent it.

The boy bumped against him lightly, dropping the books he had been carrying and letting out a small: “Oof.” For a short moment there had been a connection, just shoulder against Marik’s arm, nothing more. But that was enough to make Marik’s skin tingle with electricity.

“Excuse me,” Bakura Ryou spoke softly and kneeled to gather his books. He'd always had such a small voice. A calming voice. Marik just stood there, rooted to his spot, and watched him collect his belongings.

He shouldn’t have been there. Anywhere else would have been better.

Slowly Ryou got back on his feet and lifted his eyes to see the cause of his fall still standing there. He was clearly confused, but only for a short second. Their eyes met and Marik became painfully aware that he had forgotten how beautiful Ryou’s eyes could be when they were not rimmed with tears.

Marik couldn't breathe. Something had lodged itself to his throat and was making airflow impossible as he waited for a reaction. For one hopeful second he prayed that he wouldn't remember him.

Yeah. Sure. Like that would ever happen. You always wanted what you couldn’t have, didn’t you?

The confusion was wiped away when recognition replaced it in Bakura Ryou’s eyes. What little color had still lingered on his cheeks drained away leaving behind a boy that looked like he had seen a ghost. He looked sickly grey as he took a hasty step back.

This was a scene Marik remembered well, it had been one of his favorite sources of enjoyment that he’d liked to reenact day after day twelve months ago. The pretty boy had a look of pure panic on his face, a look he preserved only for Marik. Before, the idea had brought immense pleasure to him. Now it only made him feel sick to his stomach.

The boy took another step back, this one far more tentative than the one before, like he was afraid Marik would lash out at the smallest of movements. When Marik failed to give out a visible reaction to the pale guy’s clear fright, Bakura Ryou turned around and dashed out of sight faster than a speeding bullet.

Marik stood there, feet filled with lead and unable to move. He felt hollow but somehow heavy at the same time and he didn’t know what to do about it. He had known this was exactly how it was going to be, he wasn’t an idiot. That hadn’t stopped him from fantasizing, though.

But at least Marik knew what he needed to do. Long talks with Ishizu had made it clear, the idea felt solid and somehow right. It wasn’t going to be easy. But then again, nothing in his life ever was.

Apologizing is always the hardest part, Ishizu had said one time. She’d said that in her opinion, that was what separated men from children. And Marik had been forced to agree. Even if it had sounded like something he’d find from a shitty fortune cookie, he knew it to be true for him. It was hard to get the words out. Always had been, and now more than ever. Before, Marik had had a protective layer of violence around him. He would have lashed out at anyone, his unpredictability driving others away. Now he had nothing. He was as bare as a newborn child and the world around him was cold and uncaring.

He gripped his fists so tight it hurt. He knew what he needed to do.

The rest of the day was easy compared to the start. PE was a relief. There he could easily clear out some of that built up anger and frustration and no one had anything to say about it. Team sports had a bad habit of making others forget about old grudges – even if for just a short moment.

He saw some of Ryou’s friends. Katsuya Jounochi and Hiroto Honda. They were wary of his presence and Marik didn’t try to get closer.

In the end, he was so exhausted after school that he had all but forgotten his problems. For all of two hours he got a hint of what normal was like. And he liked the taste.


	2. Chapter 2

“So, how did it go?”

Marik sat on the floor, his math homework in front of him and a phone in his hand. He was starting to regret his decision to try and better his grades. Homework was making him frustrated beyond belief and not even his meds could calm that storm down. He'd tried to work through them last night, but had fallen asleep before finishing his homework. And now he had to suffer. 

A great start for his school career. 

The line was silent for a while when Marik said nothing. He held the phone close to his ear and just waited. It wouldn’t take long. 

“That bad, huh?” Malik sighed on the other side. His faraway cousin had learned to read his silence in Egypt and apparently that worked long distance as well. “Well, it was only the first day. We kind of knew this was going to happen.” 

Marik grunted noncommittally and stared at the problem on the paper. How hard could it be? He’d listened to the teacher explaining it just yesterday… Well, he’d tried at least. And now the notes he had taken were gibberish to him. It had been the first day of school. This promised nothing good for the future. 

“So did you, uh… see that one guy?”

Marik’s eyes grew hazy. He muttered a short reply even he couldn’t understand. 

“What was that?” Malik asked. 

“Yeah, I saw him,” Marik said. 

“And?” his cousin pressed. “How did it go?”

He slammed the textbook shut and threw his notes aside. All Malik heard was the ruffling and angry mutters and that was enough. 

“Sorry,” he said. “But we kind of thought it’d be hard, right? Remember what you have to do?”

“Apologize,” Marik muttered. 

“That’s right!” Malik sounded disgustingly happy. “Oh, and Ishizu says hi.”

“Whatever,” he said. He heard the front door open and close and knew that it was his mom returning from her night shift. And that meant it was time for him to leave for school. So much for the homework. 

“Good luck!” Malik said before he could end the call and Marik smiled a little. Luck. Yeah. That was exactly what he needed, and heaps of it to boot. He gathered his unfinished homework and straightened some of his papers. Then he tossed everything to his bag and left the room. 

His mother was sitting in the kitchen and Marik could hear the microwave heating up whatever leftovers there’d been in the fridge. He stopped for a moment. Maybe he should say something, let her know that he was leaving. 

No. It didn’t matter. Marik stretched his shoulders and walked out his mom’s miniscule flat and down the stairs to the lobby. 

Another day, another struggle. It seemed like the rumors had had time to stew during the night and when Marik got to school, people were outright steering clear from his way. Wherever he walked, there would be a clear circle void of people around him. Old Marik would have been delighted. He would have growled at passers-by and flipped a bird at any teacher who would look his way. 

He didn’t see many of the people he’d hung out with a year ago. Some of them had graduated by some miracle during his absence, others expelled and the remaining few were not the type of people Marik wanted to associate with anymore. They still remembered him, sneering his way when he passed, but otherwise leaving him alone. Good riddance. 

Old Marik had been a real son of a bitch. And the new Marik felt uncomfortable. Everywhere he looked, he could feel his past mistakes flaunting at him, twisting his insides to inhuman shapes. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t need to regret any of that! He had changed and that should have been all that mattered. 

If only it would have been that simple. 

He got past the first two classes with no problem and the lunch was bearable, even if he did sit by himself, pretending he didn’t see people stare. After lunch, though, when waiting for the next class to start, he saw the Friendship Gang. 

Marik ground his teeth together as he saw the ever-inseparable group waltzing past him, talking loudly about some new game or something. Katsuya and Hiroto were there, as well as Mazaki and – the worst of the worst – that pipsqueak with the most ridiculous hair in the school. Yugi Mutou. Marik couldn’t help the sneer that twisted his face. He had never met anyone as annoying as Mutou. 

It took him a moment to realize that someone was missing. Someone very important. Marik frowned and he craned his neck in hopes of seeing that familiar head of white hair. But there was no sign of Bakura Ryou to be seen in the hallway. It was just the four crusaders. No Ryou. Marik crossed his arms and leaned against the wall behind him in thought. Back then those five had been all but joined by the hips. Always going everywhere together. But here they were, sans Ryou. 

Something about this made Marik feel queasy. 

The rest of the day crawled forward infuriatingly slow and Marik found himself unable to pay attention to what the teachers were trying to tell. His thoughts lingered on Ryou. He hadn’t seen him since yesterday, but he must be at school, right? Naturally. Last year he had never missed a day. Marik’s skin was crawling. 

And then there was of course the matter of apologies. He couldn’t apologize if he didn’t know where the damn guy was. It was as simple as that. 

So after the last bell rang, Marik found himself looking around for Bakura Ryou in the school building. Marik didn’t know what classes he had, but hoped he would happen upon Ryou if he looked hard enough. No such luck, though, Bakura Ryou was nowhere to be seen. The thought to ask around came to his mind, but Marik didn’t approach any of the other students. No need to worsen his already bad reputation. 

Just as Marik was about to give up and go home, he spotted the boy. Just outside school gates, leaving Domino High in a hurry. Marik felt a surge of determination hit him, giving him a boost to run after him. He knew where Ryou lived, he’d paid a few visits to the teen back then, just to see him cry. It was only a matter of following his steps.

Bakura Ryou was moving fast, half a step away from running, but he lacked the driving force behind Marik’s jog. Marik passed people in a hurry, paying no mind to the curses sent his way when he shoved them aside to catch up with Ryou. In his mind he was thinking of a thousand and one ways to say it. He was sorry, Ryou needed to know that. Marik just had to get the words out and things would be golden. 

He knew it the moment Ryou realized he was being followed. He knew it from the way his steps faltered and his stance altered. The slouch of his shoulders changed to a posture of a frightened prey. His back was stiff and he looked like he wanted to turn to look if it truly was Marik who was tailing him. 

Ryou was getting scared. He didn't want that.

Breathing in a slow breath, Marik called him by the name.

“Bakura Ryou!” he spoke out. “Hold on a moment, I need to talk to you.”

Just getting those words out felt like a small victory. His jaw was trembling with the effort and the twisting in his stomach calmed down a notch. It didn't slow down the pale boy's walking, though.

“Wait!” he called after him as Ryou rounded a corner, disappearing out of the view. Marik felt a familiar wave of anger rising inside him, drowning out reason. He picked up the pace. Before he knew it, he was running after Ryou, snarling out loud. Idiot! Why did he have to be this way? Why could he never make things easy for him?

Marik had always been faster than the meek and un-athletic Ryou and catching up with him felt even easier than before. It was like the guy wasn't even trying anymore. Or maybe it was just Marik’s determination giving him strength. Ryou was trying to evade him, running between buildings and leaving the busy streets behind. Here there were less and less people around. Not a good strategy when running away from someone. Soon enough Marik managed to catch a hold of the back of his jacket and pull him to a stop. He threw him the wall with a snarl.

“I told you to wait!” he growled, getting real close and personal. He could feel Ryou's short and shallow breaths washing over his face and his pupils were nothing but pinpricks. Marik could see familiar gathering in his eyes and it was like a slap to the face. 

He had fucked up. Again.

Marik dropped hold of him and stumbled back. Ryou fell down on the ground onto a whimpering pile of clothes and white hair. Marik had done it again. This time he'd really done it, hadn't he?

“Shit,” he mumbled, biting his knuckle, looking everywhere but at the guy he was supposed to be apologizing to. This was not what he had planned, but then again, should he really feel surprised?

“Didn't mean to do that,” he said. “I really didn't. Shit. Look, are you okay?”

He got no answer out of him, just soft sobs Ryou was trying to hide.

“Look, I really didn't mean it to go like this, I just wanted to have talk. I... I'm sorry okay?”

Whether he was apologizing for the chase or for the things that had happened last year, he wasn’t sure. Maybe both. But Ryou wasn’t responding. Marik ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. Something needed to be done, but he didn’t have the slightest clue what. He wanted to call Malik and ask, but knew better. His cousin would flail him alive for this. 

Ryou curled up on the ground and shivered softly. Marik huffed a breath and offered his hand for him to grab. Just a peace offering. If only Ryou would just grab it and stop looking at the ground and just… just…

Bakura Ryou lifted his tear stained face and Marik felt the bottom of his stomach fall off, his insides disappearing like magic. His hand wavered, but he kept it there. In his mind he was trying to will Ryou to grab it. A show of good faith. 

He flinched away and turned his eyes back on the ground. Ryou hunched down as if waiting for a punch. Marik felt sick. He let the hand fall. 

“Look, I’m really sorry that I… uh, did that. Didn’t mean to. It’s just that… sometimes it gets hard to, you know,” he cleared his throat, “control the anger. I mean, I’m on meds now, but…”

Ryou kept staring at the ground, wound up so tight Marik worried something might snap. 

He licked his lips and ran his fingers through his hair again, yanking at the strands with such vigor he pulled out a tuft or two. 

“All I wanted to say was that… uh… I’m really sorry. About everything. Last year… All the times before and… and today. I’ve… I’m trying to change, you know and I just wanted to – “

“Please,” Bakura Ryou whispered and suddenly Marik found his voice lost. “Please, just… leave me alone, Ishtar. Just leave me alone.”

Marik nearly bit off his own tongue trying to stop the angry words from surfacing. He managed to swallow down the curses, the pleading and the desperation. No, he did not want to leave. Why would he want to do that? This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Malik had made it sound like apologizing was going to fix everything, but that didn’t seem to be the case. 

“I’m sorry – “

“Well I don’t want your apologies!” the soft-spoken teen suddenly yelled. His unexpected burst seemed to catch them both off guard. Ryou covered his mouth in horror and stared up at Marik with large eyes. And Marik just stared past him. He felt hollow. He licked his lips, trying to buy time to come up with something smart to say, something that was going to fix this. But his mind was ringing empty. 

“Yeah,” he said after a long pause. “I guess that’s fair.”

Ryou put down his hands, looking confused. He turned his face away and stood up awkwardly. Hands shaking, he dusted his clothes and took a step to put some distance between them. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Marik said uncertainly. 

Ryou barked a short laugh, a sound so fake and frightened it cut Marik deep. 

“I don’t believe you,” Ryou said, words shaky and eyes wet. “May I go now?”

Marik wanted to say no, wanted to grab him again and bash him against the wall until Ryo accepted his apology, but knew better. So he just shrugged and dug his hands into his pockets. 

Bakura Ryou said nothing when he walked away. Marik stood rooted to his spot until he was certain he was gone. Only then did he allow himself to fall into a slouch. 

That had been a complete shit show. What else was new?


	3. Chapter 3

“I’m sorry, Marik. I don’t know what to say,” Malik said softly. “I mean, you did the best you could.”

The more volatile Ishtar sat on his mother’s couch and stared dead ahead, the phone tightly in his grip. He didn’t dare to move. He knew if he did, he would start pacing like a caged animal ready to snap. He could feel the rage boiling in his stomach, fueled by confusion and rejection. Marik knew it wasn’t a good combination, so he sat with his back ramrod rigid and didn’t move. 

“Well,” he said through tightly shut teeth, “I could’ve not ran after him and throw him against a wall.”

The line was silent for a moment. Then, a bit awkwardly, Malik said: “Well… Yeah. That’s true.”

Marik had called his faraway cousin the moment he’d reached home. He’d been hoping for sage advice that would suddenly make the situation better. Instead he had heard the clear disappointment in his cousin’s voice when he had told him what had happened. 

This was a real clusterfuck. Everything seemed to be falling down, the other students still feared him, the teachers had started judging him the moment he’d stepped back in Domino and now this. Nothing was going right. 

“You knew it wasn’t going to be easy,” Malik said after a long stretch of silence. “You knew that. And yet you still decided to go back.”

“Yeah,” Marik admitted. 

“You chose this, so now you’re going to have to live with the consequences. It’s going to be tough at first. That’s a given. But trust me, once you get past the difficulties, it’s going to turn out just fine. You said you wanted to prove all the others wrong and that requires a lot of work.”

“When did you get to grow up to be such a wise old man?” Marik asked. 

“I was born this way,” his cousin said smugly. “It’s a family trait that apparently has skipped you.”

Marik rolled his eyes, not giving Malik the satisfaction of knowing that his words were starting to work. His insides weren’t clenching as tight anymore and his mood was mellowing down. Malik was right, once again. This had been his choice and if he wanted to see it through, he’d have to do his damnest to show the others what had been hidden underneath the violent exterior. 

“So, what am I going to do with Ryou?” he asked. 

The line was silent for just a bit too long. 

“Maybe… you should just leave the poor guy alone. I think that ship has sailed – “

Marik was on his feet snarling before his cousin could finish the sentence. He could hardly hear Malik sigh as he started to pace around the room. 

“What the hell are you saying?” he shouted to the receiver. “That I should give up? You were the one who said apologizing was the grown up thing to do!”

“Well, yes I did and you already – “

“And I’m just going to have to leave it at that? Swallow it down and move on? Like hell I will! I’ve changed! I’m better now and if he can’t see that, then I’m going to have to show it to him!” His voice was growing louder, reverberating from the walls.

“Marik – “

“None of these people are giving me a second chance, they’ve already decided that I have failed and – “

The soft sound of a door opening drew Marik’s attention and his words fizzled out like a flame in rain.

It was his mother. She was looking at him through a crack between the door and the wall from the bedroom, carefully kept appearances calm as she studied her son. Marik swallowed down his yell and turned his head down. 

“…Sorry Malik, I’m going to call you back later,” he said ending the call and keeping his eyes down cast. 

His mother opened the door fully to look at her son. She was dressed in a ratty bathrobe that she’d had as long as Marik could remember. Marik’s shouting must have woken her up and she didn’t look pleased. But she wasn’t going to complain. She never did. Hadn’t dared after the death of Marik’s dad.

Marik stood still, waiting for the words to come. For her to say something. In the ringing silence he could hear a neighbor’s dog barking loudly. The walls were like paper here, but yelling and fighting was nothing new to this apartment. Marik bit his teeth together. Just say it, he wanted to bark. Speak up! I know you want to. But she didn’t. His mother just stared at him.

“I got an email from your school yesterday,” she said after a while, her voice raspy from sleep and cigarettes. “Told me that you’ve been acting good. Well, better than before.”

Marik said nothing, just waited for his mother to continue. He didn’t have to wait long. 

“This is your last chance, Marik,” she said solemnly. There was no threat in her voice, no anger. She was just… stating the obvious. “One more chance and they won’t be taking you back no more.”

“I know, mom,” Marik said. 

“Do you?” she asked and Marik could feel her stare moving away. She had crossed her arms when he turned to look at her, buried hidden behind the loose sleeves of her worn out yellow gown. “They’re watching you, the teachers. If they think they’ve got even the smallest reason to kick you out, they will. And what school’s gonna take you after that?”

“I know,” he said again. “I’m trying my best.”

The woman just stared silently from the doorway. Then she nodded. 

“I hope so.”


	4. Chapter 4

After that Marik kept his distance. He followed Ryou from afar, keeping an eye on him, never getting too close. Watching him move from class to class was far from satisfactory, but it was better than nothing. Sometimes Ryou would spot him staring and flee, but most of the time he had no idea he was being watched. And Marik didn’t mind that. He gathered the little happiness he could get from following him as he navigated the halls of Domino High and kept his damn distance. Maybe Marik altered his ways to classes just a little get even a glimpse of Ryou every day. Maybe. He wasn’t going to mention that to Malik, though. He wasn’t hurting anyone, right?

After a while Ryou must have grown wise to the act, or maybe he just got scared and decided that the best way to avoid his former bully was to steer clear. He must have memorized Marik’s timetable, because he started to take alternative routes to his classes to keep out of Marik’s way. Ryou had always been a smart one, doing his best in a shitty situation. But the joke was on him, Marik had memorized his timetable as well and learned all of his secret routes. In this little game of theirs, Marik was clearly the more dedicated player, and that paid off. He would follow Ryou from afar, fantasizing about closing the distance and talking to him. In his fantasies, Marik was always a real silver tongue, quick-witted, forever patient and charismatic and Ryou was hanging onto his every word. Reality, though, was as far from that as could be, so Marik never tried to start up a conversation. It was better that way. No need to spook the poor guy, Ryou hated him enough as it was. 

The school set him up with a counselor. She was a nice lady and all, soft spoken and polite, but too insistent. She always acted like she knew all the ways to better Marik’s situation, telling him how to live his life. Like getting a hobby or doing sports was going to help him. Marik didn’t like talking to her, didn’t like the idea of sharing his problems with this complete stranger. She kept saying that everything they would talk about in her room would be kept private, that it was part of her professional ethics or whatever, but Marik had his doubts. It wasn’t like talking to people like her had ever helped him before. If it had, he wouldn’t be in the situation he’d been year prior. 

And for a few weeks it actually worked out. He was starting to get a hold on his new life, some sort of resemblance of ordinary worming its way into his days. Marik started to catch up with his studies, actually paying attention during classes. Some teachers were more understanding than others, offering extra help and of that he was grateful. They suggested getting a tutor, but Marik knew none of the students would want to spend their free time with him, so instead he did his best to learn on his own. He would have been happy if things had continued like this, with him on his own and all that. He was complacent, things were finally calming down. It seemed like Malik had been right, once again. The students stopped sending frightened looks his way after he had proven that he wasn’t interested in them and most of the teachers stopped looking at him with contempt. Marik still caught a rumor or two floating around about him, but nothing as severe as on the first days. 

He would have been just fine with following Ryou from afar, if it hadn’t been for the bruises. 

Marik noticed the first signs of something being wrong when Ryou started to wear his hair down again one day. It was curious to Marik, he hadn’t seen this look since his abrupt departure from Domino over twelve months ago. Now Ryou’s face was hidden behind a veil of white, when not too long ago he had seemed adamant on wearing it out of the way. It peeked Marik’s interest, but he didn’t think much of it. Sure, he’d liked the new look with Ryou’s hair out of the way, but that didn’t kill the thrill of seeing him walk past every day. 

But soon after Ryou started to move awkwardly. He started to favor one leg over the other and held onto his side when walking. He’d wince if someone bumped into him by accident, face growing ashen. That wasn’t normal and Marik started to worry. So for the first time in weeks he started to move closer again. He had to be careful not to rouse his suspicions, though. If Ryou went to tell the teachers Marik had been cornering him again, it would be bye-bye to Marik’s school career.

It took him three days to get a closer look at what Ryou was hiding behind the curtain of hair. 

A large bruise on his left cheek. The sight of it made Marik’s blood run cold. He knew what it was. Whatever tales Ryou might have spun to those who’d asked about its origin could not fool him. Marik knew what a bruise made by a fist looked like. He had planted quite a few himself, received plenty back. And seeing the familiar slowly fading greenish yellow outlines of knuckles on Ryou’s skin brought all sorts of bad memories to his mind. 

Someone was beating up Bakura Ryou. And no one seemed to care. 

It was odd to him. The teachers should have been on high alert about it. They knew he had targeted Ryou specifically before and now that he was back and the boy showed up to school beaten up, the teachers should have been raining down on Marik like justice from above. But no one seemed to care. It was odd. 

Unless this had been going on for a while in his absence. 

It demanded attention. Marik reasoned it to himself that he was in debt to Ryou. He owed the poor guy his help after the hell he had put him through. If Ryou didn’t accept his apology, Marik might as well help him get rid of whoever it was that had caused him pain. 

It wasn’t that hard to convince Marik to get on the case. At that point it would have probably been harder to turn him away from it. 

Finding the culprit turned out to be a bit trickier than he’d hoped, though. Marik already knew it couldn’t have happened on the school grounds. He’d followed Ryou like a hawk between classes and unless the brawls had taken place during lessons, Ryou had not received the bruises during school hours. He knew all the classes Ryou took and thanks to his compulsive stalking he was familiar with the routes the guy took to go there. He knew Ryou sat alone in the cafeteria every day and that no one approached him during the breaks. Not even that Friendship Gang. There was no way he could have missed Ryou getting beaten in school. 

So it must have happened outside. And that was a problem. 

Marik had drawn a line with his obsession and that was the only thing keeping him from following Ryou home. The one time he had went after Ryou outside school limits after returning to Domino hadn’t ended up too well for him, so he had decided to let the poor guy be. But if Ryou was getting beaten on his way to school or – worse yet – at home, he really needed to start following him. 

Or so he told himself. To be honest, it didn’t take much convincing to get him to do that either.

He mulled over what he should do. Following Ryou around was well and good, but he wanted to do more than that. He wanted to show Ryou he had changed for the better, that he cared. And he just… wanted to talk. Be civil and all that. 

Direct approach was the best course of action, he decided. Just go to him and ask. Establish a connection or whatever. Now was the best time. Marik was pretty sure there was no better way of showing Ryou that he was a better person than helping him out. So he waited until the end of a day to get on it, planning on what he should do and say. 

Ryou still lived where he had the year before. It was a fancy apartment building on the rich side of the city, dozens of storeys high. The place wasn’t that far from school, it was like a fifteen-minute walk there and Ryou made the way on foot every day. There were only so many places where he could get attacked, most of the way was through crowded streets. That was unless the boy took shortcuts. But getting attacked during broad daylight? It wasn’t that likely, right? Someone would have seen it. 

Well, he was going to get to the bottom of this. 

Marik spotted Ryou leaving the school building, bag tucked tightly under his arm and a slight limp still in his gait. Marik picked up his pace, dead set on doing things the right way this time. No fuck-ups today. Keeping the white head of hair in his line of sight, Marik drew near, fingers curling into sweaty fists at his sides. He just needed to ask. Get the words out and be done with it. It couldn’t hurt, right? 

“Bakura Ryou!” he called, his voice booming just a bit too loud. Students around them stopped to stare and some who had been there a year before shot apologetic looks at their way. None of them tried to stop him, though. None of them ever had. 

It was clear that Ryou recognized his voice immediately, as his whole spine grew rigid like someone had replaced it with lead. For a moment it looked like Ryou was going to run again and Marik’s feet strained in anticipation. But it didn’t happen. Ryou stood rooted to his spot and waited stiffly for Marik to catch up to him. 

Well, would you look at that! Maybe this would turn out to be easier than he’d thought.

But now what? Ryou stood there, right in front of him, staring keenly at the ground and trembling ever so slightly. Students kept passing them, looking worried, but again, no one said a word. Marik played with the straps of his backpack, trying to think of something to say, but coming up short. He should have planned ahead of time. His brain was echoing empty. The longer he waited, the more agitated Ryou was getting. 

Silence. 

Marik’s mouth was as dry as a desert. This had been a mistake. 

“Wh- what do you want, Ishtar?” Ryou asked nearly inaudibly. 

Such a small and fragile voice. Hearing Ryou use his last name spent electrifying waves through Marik’s body. The way Ryou was standing, slouched down and small, made Marik feel like a giant in comparison, even if there was only a few inch difference between them. He licked his teeth and drew a long breath. Be direct, he told himself. Get to the point. 

“You’ve got a bruise on your cheek,” he said roughly. 

Ryou flinched a little, but said nothing. He tried to move his hair in the way without Marik noticing, but it would have been hard to accomplish with him staring so keenly. 

“Where’d you get it?”

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Ryou’s arms were around his torso, gripping so hard Marik worried his ribs might start to crack if he didn’t ease up. 

“Someone bullying you?”

That earned a small response. A snort, even if a little desperate one. Laughter. Mocking. Ryou still wouldn’t lift his eyes off the ground, though, and from his angle Marik couldn’t even see his face. 

Something about this situation was making his skin crawl. 

“If someone beat you up… just… just let me know, okay? I’ll take care of it. ‘Cause… You know…”

For a brief moment Ryou lifted his head and looked Marik in the eye. That gave him a clear show of his cheek, brightly colored with yellow and green hues. Ryou searched for something in his eyes, dark shadows underneath his. The connection was short and guarded, it didn’t last longer than a few seconds before the boy dropped his gaze back on the ground. Whether he found what he had been looking for or not, Marik didn’t know. 

“It’s none of your business, Ishtar,” he said nearly inaudibly. 

“I know, but – “

“Please stop following me.”

Marik opened his mouth but didn’t have time to say a word before Ryou was out through the school gates and running off. 

Marik didn’t follow him. 

So, the direct approach hadn’t worked out at all. He shouldn’t have been surprised. If he had been honest with himself from the get-go, he wouldn’t be feeling like shit right now. The thought of Ryou hating him so much that he’d rather let someone else beat him and do nothing about it than let Marik help got under his skin and stayed there. Marik couldn’t sleep that night, thinking about it. He sat on the edge of his bunk in the one bedroom of his mother’s house, listening to the noises the apartment building made. There was a party going on one of the neighbor’s houses, Marik could hear the bass beating all the way across the building. The noise of the traffic carried in through the thin walls, cars speeding past their block. Marik sat on his bed and stared at the floor beneath his socks. Malik had said to stay out of Ryou’s way. Ryou himself had told him to stop following him around. The signs should have been clear enough. And he still wasn’t ready to let it go. 

He hadn’t told about that day’s encounter to Malik during that night’s phone conversation. And if he was given the choice, he never would. Nothing his cousin would say was going to help him anyway. Might as well not burden the guy with more of his problems. 

Marik leaned back on his bed, back hitting against the wall behind him. His mom was working again and her apartment was blissfully silent. There was a stop to the bass when a song changed and soon enough the beat continued with a different frequency. Someone was laughing so loud it was more like screeching. Marik ran his tongue over his teeth and watched the cracks on the bedroom wall where he had punched his fist ages ago over one stupid thing or another. He couldn’t even remember what it had been for anymore, just like he couldn’t remember most of the reasons he’d lashed out in the past. The counselor said it was okay, that he was not alone with his anger management problems, but that knowledge helped him little. 

Marik had known it would be hard to return back to his old life and a smarter guy would have probably left for good and continued in another school. But he had always had a bit of a masochistic streak in him. Why would he choose the easy route when instead he could suffer and lose? 

Bakura Ryou didn’t trust him. The boy straight out hated him and had every reason to. Fear was a smart reaction after the physical and mental bullying Marik had put him through. He had never given it easy for him. Name-calling, vandalizing and the occasional honest-to-God beatings had been Marik’s ways of showing his affections. 

He’d always known he liked Ryou. From the very first moment Marik had laid his eyes on him, he had known how he felt. Ryou wasn’t like the others, he had thought. Not only did he look so otherworldly with his white hair and large brown eyes, but he was a gentle soul as well. 

An easy target more like. 

Marik had been crushing from the very first look. Too bad he really hadn’t known how to show it. He’d heard of “pulling the pigtails” afterwards, but that didn’t make it any better. Ryou had been the first boy he’d ever had a crush on and it had been a big shock. Not that it made things better either, but he had thought that boys like him weren’t supposed to look twice at pretty little things like Bakura Ryou. But he had. So Marik had thought that he could get his attention with name-calling and when that had worked, things had gotten out of hand. 

He understood why Ryou didn’t want to have anything to do with him. He really did. Didn’t make it easier to accept it, though. 

If Marik had been a smart guy, he would have kept the hell away from him. 

But he had never been the sharpest pencil in the drawer.


	5. Chapter 5

The decision was hard. Marik had his boundaries, he needed them to keep from turning back into that uncontrollable mass of fury he had been before. And one of the biggest boundaries he had set for himself was that Bakura Ryou after school was a no-no. No following the boy outside of school, no bothering him after the day was over. He had to limit his obsession somehow. But the bruise was there and no one else was giving a crap. Marik seethed as he watched Ryou on the next day. To his knowledge, no one had bothered to ask where he had gotten the mark. No one seemed to care. 

It was rather curious, actually. Marik could see Mutou and his Friendship Gang bustling about, playing some card game during the lunch break, but when Ryou passed their table, neither party showed any interest in the other. None of the crusaders even noticed the white haired boy passing them and Ryou in turn didn’t look at their way either. 

Friendships ended sometimes, he thought, but those five had seemed inseparable before. Something had happened, he just didn’t know what. And it wasn’t like he had anyone to ask about it either.

Ruminating on it for the entirety of the school day, Marik came to a conclusion. He was on a mission and everything was fair in love and war, right? So that meant going back to the old formula and applying that to his free time as well. He was going to follow Ryou like he did at school, from a distance and out of sight if possible. He waited near the front gates for Ryou to leave, hands buried deep in his jacket pockets. He watched the pale boy pass him and drew in a long breath. 

Here goes nothing. 

Head held low Marik followed Ryou as he made his way home. Ryou mostly used open roads, walking with other people, dodging through the masses with ease. He looked down at his feet when he walked, paying little attention to the world around him. His bag looked heavy with all the books he carried and it dug into his shoulder. Marik had to keep reminding himself not to get closer. Ryou had been interested in archeology and the ancient myths last year if memory served. Something to do with his father’s work. Marik wondered if Ryou was still into that. He’d have a few things to tell about the ancient Egypt now, if only he could get him to listen. Wouldn’t that be nice? To sit down with him and just… talk. No reservations, no need to wallow over the past, just two guys talking about Egypt. Marik kneaded the bottom of his jacket’s pockets, rolling the fuzz there into small balls. That’d be really nice. 

Ryou crossed the road and Marik could see the apartment building coming to the view not that far off. The building was taller than the others around it, proud and white against the blue skies. Sunlight was glimmering from its window panels, letting everyone bellow know that people with money lived there and no riff-raffs were welcome. Ryou started picking up his pace, disappearing into the building. Nothing had happened. Marik stopped to stare. He wasn’t going to get closer. The neighbors might still recognize his face and call the cops.

Nothing had happened. 

Marik frowned in thought and sized the building up in his eyes. From memory, Bakura Ryou lived mostly by himself, since his father spent most of his days out of town, out of country even. There were no other family members; mother and sister were dead. 

He cringed. Hadn’t that been an easy way to torment the kid before. Dead family. 

Marik shoved the thoughts deep into the back of his mind, but he could still feel the uncomfortable weight of his past actions churning in his brain, reaching their tendrils all over his body.

But really, nothing had happened and this was a threshold he could not cross. He had his boundaries. He needed them. 

He prayed Ryou wouldn’t show up to school with a new set of bruises next day.


	6. Chapter 6

“You didn’t call yesterday.”

Marik stared ahead, sitting on the living room couch. He tried not to get provoked by Malik’s accusing tone. The guy was trying to get answers and Marik didn’t want to give any. 

“I mean, hey, you don’t have to call every day if you don’t want to, but Ishizu was worrying and you know how she gets when she’s worried.”

Marik scoffed. Yes. The older of the two Egyptian siblings had sharp tongue she knew to use. And when she started to lash out, no one was safe. 

“Busy day,” he said. “Homework.”

“…Sure.”

The tone of his voice told Marik his cousin didn’t believe him. Marik sat still and waited for the fallout. 

“So… I guess the only smart thing to ask right now is… how’s Ryou?”

Marik sighed and massaged his brow. He should have known Malik would know. His cousin had some sort of sixth sense for his fuck-ups.

“Someone’s been bullying him. Beaten him. Got a bruise on his cheek.”

The line was silent for a while. 

“I was just trying to find out who it was,” he said defensively. “To get them off his back.”

“Marik…” Malik said. 

“Shut up!” he shouted. “I was just trying to help!”

“And how did that go? Did you talk to him?”

“Yeah, well…”

“That good, huh?”

“Shut up!”

Malik sighed on the other side and Marik could almost see him rolling his eyes. 

“Well…” he said. “If Ryou is getting bullied, I guess that’s bad. But that doesn’t mean you should get involved. The best thing you can do is let a teacher know and – “

“Like that’s going to change anything,” Marik said forcefully, cutting the Malik’s speech before he could start lecturing him. “Like it helped any before. When I was the bully. They knew, the whole school probably knew. And what did they do?”

His cousin said nothing and Marik scoffed. “It’s not going to do him any good. And I owe him that much.” 

He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince his distant cousin or himself, but it wasn’t working on Malik.

“They’re already keeping an eye on you, Marik,” the boy reminded him. “The teachers. And if they catch a whiff of you bothering Ryou, things could get ugly.”

Marik laughed humorlessly. “Yes, they only seem to be paying attention to me when it suits their interests.”

“Marik, listen to me – “

“No!” he barked. “I’m going to help him whether he likes it or not! It’s the right thing to do. You kept on jabbing about how I need to do the right thing and think about what I’m doing and I know I need to do this!”

The line was silent for a long time. Marik had to check the phone to see if they were still connected. The other Ishtar was silent in thought. 

“You don’t understand,” Marik ground between his teeth. “He doesn’t know how to protect himself. His friends are a no-show, they don’t even bother to check on him when he shows up all bruised. Someone needs to help him.”

“And I suppose that someone is you?” Malik asked tiredly. 

“Well… yeah.”

Malik chuckled humorlessly. “I can’t win with you, can I? Alright, I can’t turn you around. But you need to be smart about this, okay? You need to think before you act. And you’re going to have to mentally prepare for rejection. He’s not just going to let you back into his life. So maybe you could just… I don’t know, deal with the problem quietly?”

Would if I could, Marik thought, but ended up agreeing with his cousin. If he could, he’d do just that. All he had to do is keep a safe distance until he found the root of the problem, do what needed to be done and all of them could keep living their lives in peace. Malik didn’t sound convinced, but what could he do? He wished Marik good luck, even if a bit dejectedly, before hanging up. 

As Ryou returned to school unharmed the next day, Marik breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed like whomever it was that had decided to plant their fist on his cheek wasn’t a problem at home. That was good. The situation would be easier to handle if it was coming from someone outside the Bakura residence. Marik knew dealing with a violent dad wasn’t easy. It could leave all kinds of damage, some of which took longer to heal than a few bruises. But if it was something else, then maybe Marik could do something about it. 

That started a new habit in his life where he would follow Ryou home every day to keep an eye on him. In the mornings he would wait by the school gates to see that Ryou got to school okay and when it was time to leave, he would tail the timid guy from a short distance. Much like at school, sometimes Ryou would see him and get spooked, but most of the time Marik went completely unnoticed. And for a few weeks nothing happened. The bruise on Ryou’s cheek healed up and vanished completely and soon the boy started to wear his hair up again. It was a welcome sight and Marik was pleased to get to see his eyes again. He was starting to feel like Ryou was growing used to his presence at school. He wouldn’t run at the sight of him anymore, just ignore him and go about his day as if nothing was wrong. 

Marik didn’t stop following him home, though. It was just a precaution, he told himself. Nothing serious, he had his compulsions in check. Life was good. 

Really. He was just trying to pay back a debt. 

He was starting to doubt his conviction, though. It was a little weird to follow a guy home without the other knowing about it, right? It wouldn’t look good if he got caught. And telling himself that he was just doing it out of the goodness of his heart didn’t hold much water when he would sometimes wake up gasping Ryou’s name after dreaming about him. And the longer the time passed that nothing happened, the more Marik started to think that maybe he should just stop. Nothing was going to happen. Maybe Malik was right, maybe this wasn’t any of his business. 

He didn’t stop, though. And after three weeks of going at it, he was relieved that he hadn’t. That was when things took a turn. 

Things deviated from the pattern. 

Marik had been following Ryou after school like he usually did, keeping his distance that was far enough to let him disappear into the crowd but close enough so he could keep an eye on the easily recognizable head of white hair. Ryou always walked home alone, dodging out of other people’s way. But this time someone joined him. 

Marik watched with interest as a complete stranger sidled up to Ryou and greeted him cheerfully. He could hear the new guy saying something, but couldn’t make out the words over the traffic around them, but the guy certainly seemed to know Ryou. To a passer-by it might have looked like a non-event, two friends meeting up on a street, but Marik saw how Bakura Ryou’s shoulders grew rigid. Whoever it was, the boy didn’t like him. Marik started walking faster, catching up to the two to hear what they were talking about. 

The stranger put his arm around Ryou’s shoulder. 

Marik saw red. 

More than anything he wanted to run up to the two of them and twist the man’s arm behind his back, force the stranger to let go of Ryou. His heart was beating loudly in his chest, telling him to go ahead, snap that fucker’s arm in two. His lips started stretch into a horrible grin. 

_No._ He needed to calm down. Marik stopped walking, resting his head on his hands. _Breathe in_ , Ishizu would say. _Breathe out. Just keep breathing. Picture your anger as a vapor that leaves your body with every lungful of air you let out_. It had been easier with his cousin there, sitting down with her and trying to force the anger out. Sometimes he needed to let it out physically, sometimes just hearing Ishizu’s voice helped. Marik buried his hands into his hair and squeezed, focusing on the sting in his scalp. 

Breathe. 

The red haze started to fade and Marik lifted his head. 

There was no sight of either Ryou or the stranger. 

The rage was replaced by panic. Ryou had been there just a moment ago. Where could he just disappear like that? The new emotion filled Marik’s mouth with a bitter taste. Hurrying his steps he ran to the spot where he had last seen him and looked around frantically. 

There was no sign of him. 

It should have been a clear crossing from here. Ryou always took the same route. From here he should have kept on walking straight ahead, but now he had disappeared completely. 

No, wait! A spot of white flashed behind a corner. 

That wasn’t the way to his house. Marik frowned. That was a way to the more run down part of the town. There was no reason Ryou should be going that way. He started following again, burying his hands into his pockets. 

This was going to be so embarrassing when he would find out that Ryou was just visiting a friend or something. 

No. Bakura Ryou did not have friends. The ones he’d had before had abandoned him. 

It wasn’t long before he caught up with them. He was still walking with that stranger, much to Marik’s annoyance. But he was moving differently now. Marik wasn’t sure how to explain it. Ryou’s steps weren’t as easy as before. He was hunched over like the arm resting on his shoulders weighed him down, his own arms held around his torso. It was a flimsy shield between him and the world. Just the sight of him like that raised a ton of flags. Something was seriously wrong with the picture here. 

Marik’s worries only intensified when Ryou and his buddy moved from open walkways to a shady back alley. The two of them disappeared out of view and Marik stopped at the edge. The light of day didn’t quite reach the gap between the buildings, throwing dark shadows over the trashcans there. They were far from Ryou’s usual path now, away from the rich part of the town. 

What would a guy like Ryou be looking from a place like this? No good explanation came to mind. It must have been because of that stranger. Marik set his jaw and followed after them. 

The deeper he got, the less light managed to make its way over the walls of the buildings. The Ryou he had thought he knew would never set a foot in a place like this. Not unless he was forced. 

Marik started walking faster. 

Ahead of him the stranger and Ryou turned from a corner and disappeared out of Marik’s sight. He started running, but slid to a halt when the sounds of a muffled conversation reached his ears. Someone was talking and the conversation sounded pretty one sided from where Marik was standing. As he moved slowly closer, the words became clearer. 

“ – you could make it. You haven’t been avoiding us, have you?”

Marik couldn’t hear any audible answer, but the asker let out a sigh. 

“I’m disappointed in you, Ryou.”

Scuffling. Marik slowed his pace when he reached the corner to duo had disappeared behind and leaned to take a peek. 

It was Ryou alright, cornered by three guys all bigger and bulkier than him. One of them, apparently the leader of the group, had Ryou’s bag in his hands and was unceremoniously dumping all of its contents on the ground. Books and notes scattered at their feet and the leader kicked them around as if half-heartedly looking for something. 

Ryou stood still, staring at his feet and saying nothing. He looked defeated, dejected. He looked like he had accepted whatever this was and was just waiting for it to run its course. 

Marik was confused. What the hell was going on? Should he interfere? But Ryou wasn’t doing anything. 

The leader finally seemed to find what he had been looking for and fished out Ryou’s wallet. He tossed the emptied bag on top of the pale boy’s books and opened the wallet. With a satisfied grin he pulled out the money inside, spreading the bills and counting them out loud. 

“Good boy, Ryou!” he congratulated mockingly and patted him on the head. Ryou flinched and closed his eyes, but stayed glued to his spot. Marik’s stomach was churning. 

What was this? Marik knew a shakedown when he saw one, but why was Ryou just standing there? The other crony he didn’t recognize, but the one closest to the boy was the one that had led him there. And the way these guys were talking to him, it was like they knew each other. 

What should he do? Marik shouldn’t just barge in, looking for a fight. That was the exact opposite of what he had promised to do when leaving Egypt. But he couldn’t let this thing go, could he? He’d followed Ryou because he wanted to help, right? 

“We’ve been thinking that since you’ve been so happy to pay us so far, you must be swimming in cash,” the leader said casually. “What, with your daddy living in that big ass building there.”

“I… I don’t – “ Ryou said silently. 

“Shut up. Bring more money next time if you want to keep your pretty face clean,” the leader said. “Or do you want to get beat up again?”

“But I don’t have – “

A mistake. The leader grabbed Ryou by the ponytail, bringing his face closer. 

“What was that, Ryou?” he asked quietly. 

“Let him go.”

The three bullies turned around to see Marik. He hadn’t even stopped to think before stepping out of his hiding spot when the guy had grabbed hold of Ryou. Now the leader let go of his hair and Ryou stumbled back. His eyes were as large as saucers when he recognized Marik and his confusion was clear. 

Ryou opened his mouth as if to say something, but the leader spoke first, drowning whatever the shy teen had been about to say with his booming voice. 

“And what have we got here?” he asked, stepping towards Marik with his arms opened wide as if welcoming him to some sort of a show. “You want some of this action too, big boy?”

“You’re done here,” Marik said. He had to focus on keeping his fists at his sides so that he wouldn’t go punching this guy just for the fun of it. The bastard had the guts to smile smugly at him in a situation like this. “You’re gonna leave Ryou alone.”

The leader chuckled and gave Marik a crooked smile. “Oh really?” he asked and turned to his buddies. “Are you hearing this? This guy’s come to play a knight in shining armor!” He turned back to Marik. “What makes you think we care what you want?”

From the corner of his eye Marik could see Ryou kneeling down to start and pick up his books from the ground. One of the cronies barked an order for him to stay still, stepping on his chemistry book. Ryou flinched and pulled back. Marik bit his teeth together and moved his attention away from Ryou and back to the supposed leader of the group. There was no taking things back now. He was in the thick of it and he was going to do something about it. 

Marik had promised not to resort to violence anymore, to keep his head high, show the other cheek and all that bullshit. But he could not help it when the instincts kicked in. He could try and change, but on the inside he was still the same asshole he had been before. And sometimes he loved it. 

Marik stepped up to the leader, grabbed hold of his shirt and threw a punch, effectively wiping away that cocky little grin of his. The guy fell down on the ground, hard, letting out a surprised yelp, but Marik didn’t let him lie down for long. He hauled the guy up by his jacket just so he could plant his fist on his face again. The leader’s nose let out a satisfying crunch, giving under Marik’s assault. 

The guy stumbled back, holding his nose with a disbelieving look. Marik was satisfied to see blood spilling from between his fingers. He started laughing, a deep chuckle escaping from the back of his throat. The last time he’d had a good fight had been back in Egypt. He’d gotten mad and Rishid had tried stop him from breaking down furniture. But these guys were no Rishid. They couldn’t keep him down.

“What the hell are you doing?” the guy shouted at his friends from behind his hand. “Help me out here!”

So, they were going to outnumber him, then? Marik was grinning madly. Like that was going to help. The leader threw his hand down, droplets of blood falling to the ground. His face was going to be black and blue after this. 

They tried to pin Marik down, tried to get a hold of his arms to stop him from attacking, but they couldn’t hold onto his erratic movements. And Marik was all too happy to release his fury on these unsuspecting punks. He let it all out, the frustration, the pent up anger, the fear. It had all muddled up into a stewing, simmering rage under the lid and now it was free. Marik was laughing when he kicked, punched, bit and scratched and he loved every second of it!

One of the cronies managed to land a proper punch at his side, sending Marik off balance for a second. That was enough for the leader to ram into his back and throw him on the ground. They didn’t waste time kicking the shit out of Marik, trying to keep him on the ground and Marik couldn’t move out of their reach. He growled in frustration, trying to grab onto the other crony’s leg to make the guy fall down, but couldn’t get a proper hold of him. 

“You had enough, big boy?” the leader asked, gifting Marik with a sharp kick to his side. “You gonna keep interfering with our shit?”

From his spot on the ground, lying on his back and surrounded by these three, Marik could see Ryou standing on the same spot he’d been since the moment he had barged in here. He looked petrified, staring at Marik with eyes so large Marik could have mistaken him for Mutou. Marik snarled viciously and turned to the leader. No. He wasn’t fucking done!

He took aim and kicked up, hitting the guy’s knee. The second kick hit the jackpot between his legs. 

The leader howled in pain doubling over. And that gave Marik enough time to roll back on his feet, fists up and ready to go. 

The cronies helped their friend upright, putting some distance between them and the snarling madman in front of them. Marik was feeling alive! He was feeling great and he was grinning so wide it hurt. His whole body was in pain! And it felt so fucking good!

“What the hell,” the leader wheezed. He still couldn’t stand quite upright. “That’s it. We’re leaving.”

What? Already? Marik moved closer, ready to keep the fight going, but apparently these guys had had enough. They made a hasty retreat, disappearing behind the corner and leaving Marik and Ryou behind. Marik’s breathing was erratic and his heart was beating a mile a minute. Seeing the retreating back of those cowards drained out his fighting spirit, though, and Marik sagged down exhausted. He leaned his hands on his knees and breathed deeply. His mouth tasted like blood and his face and sides were aching. He spat on the ground, getting rid of some of the blood. Was he just imagining or were his front teeth a bit loose? 

Marik couldn’t stop smiling. 

That had felt great!

“Um…”

His face snapped at the direction of the voice. Ryou Bakura flinched at the sudden movement, pulling his bag tight against this chest like some sort of a barrier between him and the bloodied teen. His eyes were shining with unshed tears, red around the corners and his lips were trembling. 

Fucking perfect. How had he mucked up this time?

“You okay?” Marik asked sullenly and pushed himself back upright. His sides sent out a jolt of pain, but he pretended like he didn’t notice. 

“Am _I_ okay?” Ryou squeaked. He seemed to realize how fragile his voice sounded and cleared his throat. “You look… awful. We need to get you to a hospital.”

“No,” Marik said, suddenly feeling dread raising its head in his stomach. He shouldn’t have started a fight. He really shouldn’t have. “No, I can’t go. If they find out I’ve been fighting…” He was already on his last thread. One more mistake and he’d go straight to juvie. 

“But you might be – “

“No!” he barked. 

Ryou shut his mouth with an audible click and swallowed down the words. For the briefest of moments he had been looking at Marik. Now he was staring at his shoes again. 

Great. Just fucking great. He couldn’t do anything right, could he?

“Come on,” he said gruffly. “Let’s get you back home.”

Marik started walking out of the alley and back into the broad daylight. He was limping slightly, trying to avoid putting weight on his left foot. Ryou was moving so silently he had to look back to check if he was actually following him. But no, there he was, looking down at the ground, following him in silence. 

Damn it. And he’d felt so good about this just a moment ago. Now it was all back to shit. 

People were staring. His hair was even more disheveled than usual and it took Marik a moment to notice that there was blood on his shirt. It wasn’t his, though. He had bitten down on that one guy’s arm so hard his teeth had punctured skin. Marik was pretty sure the guy was going to have nightmares about the crazy kid that had gone all psycho on him. He had to fight the smile that tried to emerge when he pulled the zipper of his hoodie to cover the bloodied shirt underneath. At least he got a good fight, if nothing else. Maybe the bullies would think twice before cornering Ryou again. 

Speaking of Ryou…

Marik turned to look at the guy from the corner of his eye. He was staring wordlessly at the pavement he was walking on, like he was trying to make it crumple under his glare. His brows were scrunched up into a frown, a look better than fright Marik supposed, but he was still far too pale. 

Marik cleared his throat, making Ryou flinch. 

“So…” he said slowly. “Those guys gave you the bruise from before?”

Ryou didn’t say anything for a while, just looked somewhere around Marik’s general direction without actually looking at him. 

“…Yes,” he said with a small voice. 

Good. A little win. 

“Are there others?” Marik pressed on. 

“No. Just them.”

Would you look at that? This must have been the most civil conversation they had had. Ever. Marik shoved his hands into his pockets and tried not to grin. Maybe it was the adrenaline in his system or something, but he was starting to feel pretty good about himself again. 

“So… What’s up with that?”

Ryou didn’t answer. He said nothing at all and when Marik turned to look at him, he was staring dead ahead, frowning. Well, at least Ryou was now walking side by side with him. That was a good sign, right?

“I…” he started, then seemed to think better of it. “It is none of your business, Ishtar.”

Marik halted his step, blood roaring in his ears. He had to bite on his tongue to keep from lashing out at him again. He was going to fight to keep things civil, this right here was progress. 

“Whatever,” he managed to force between his teeth. It’s a small victory, he tried to remind himself. Don’t ruin it. 

They made it to Ryou’s apartment building without another incident. A good thing. Marik wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to keep his big mouth shut. 

At the doorstep to the building Ryou hesitated. He looked frightened again, like he wasn’t sure what was going to happen next. 

Marik took that as his cue. 

“Alright,” he said awkwardly and rubbed his hands together. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

He turned around and left before he could ruin the moment. See you around? See you around? He could have said anything and he ended the day with that? He had to get out of there before he made a 180 and returned back to shove his foot deeper into his mouth. 

He did turn to take one last glance back, thought, but Ryou had already disappeared in.


	7. Chapter 7

Malik’s exasperated groan made Marik roll his eyes. His cousin sure had a knack for dramatics. 

“You got into a _fight?_ ” Malik asked. “Marik!”

“What’d you expect?”

“I… I don’t… Marik!” the boy barked. “This is not okay! What if the teachers get a whiff of it, huh?”

“They won’t.”

“Really? And how do you know that? How can you be sure they aren’t going to call the cops the minute you step on the school grounds? Marik, you were supposed to be smarter than this!”

Malik’s words were angry, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He was still feeling pretty good about yesterday. Sure, it had ended on a bit of a sour note, but he had gotten to be the hero who swooped in to rescue Ryou from a tight spot. Marik had spent the rest of the night fantasizing about the different ways the day could have ended if he had somehow managed to speak up afterwards. 

“Marik? Are you still there?” his cousin asked. “You better not hang up on me, mister! You’re in big trouble now.”

“Relax,” he sighed. “It’s not that big of a deal. I got like one bruise on my face and the teachers won’t look that hard. They don’t want to. Besides, they were going to beat up Ryou, what was I supposed to do?”

The line was silent for a while and Marik could hear the older Ishtar sibling’s soothing voice somewhere in the background. 

“Yeah,” Malik said after a while. “I guess you’re right. There’s just something I don’t understand about this.”

Marik grunted in question and looked at the clock. He needed to get going if he wanted to make it in time to school. 

“Those friends of his, that… what did you call them? Friendship Gang? Why are they doing nothing about this? Do they even know? I mean, you said they don’t hang out anymore, but why is that? Do you know?”

He grunted again, this time to signal that he didn’t know and he didn’t care that much either. If those idiots didn’t want to spend time with Bakura Ryou, it was their loss. 

“Look, Malik, I need to get going,” he said and grabbed his backpack. “Some of us have school.”

“Yeah, sure,” Malik laughed. “Oh, and Ishizu says hi.”

“Tell her hi for me,” Marik said before pocketing his phone. Making his way to the door he nearly ran face first into his mother who was just returning from work. 

The woman looked tired after a long night at work and she stared straight through Marik as she walked in. This was nothing new. She gave a long look at the dark purple mark on Marik’s jaw, eyes narrowing a little. Marik made his way past the silent woman, paying her no mind. 

“Have a good day at school.”

He froze just outside their apartment, turning around to see if he had heard right. But before Marik could make eye contact with the woman, she had shut the door, leaving the confused boy out in the hallway. 

Marik didn’t have time to stay and ask about it, though. He squared his shoulders and started making his was down to the street level. 

At school he realized he’d been right. The teachers didn’t even bat an eye when they saw him walking in with a little limp. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or angry about it. These people didn’t give a damn about him. Sometimes it was a blessing. On other times it made him really mad. 

The morning went by in a haze. He spied Ryou on his way to classes, familiar tingling filling his gut whenever he saw the guy. Ryou didn’t seem to notice him, though, looking to be deep in thought as he made his way through the school from one class to another. Marik was glad to leave him with his thoughts. 

School life had become far more challenging now that he had decided to better his grades. Just listening to the teachers was hard sometimes, the words they spat out sounding like a foreign language to him. It might have had something to do with the fact that he had gone through the past couple of years with doing as little work as possible without actually having to repeat a year. Now he had to pay attention and it was harder than he had thought. 

His counselor had said that he really should reconsider getting a tutor. He had laughed at that, telling her to stop bothering him about it. The other students might have grown used to his presence, but they still didn’t like him. He wasn’t about to go and ask one to help him out with his math homework. 

Deep in thought on his way to the next class, Marik didn’t realize that he had gained a new shadow. Someone was following in close behind him, quietly approaching. He only realized he had company, when someone pulled at his sleeve. 

Marik’s blood ran cold at the foreign feeling. Instincts kicked in before he had time to think about it and he whirled around, ready to punch a hole through whoever it was that had dared to touch him. 

Bakura Ryou took a hasty step back, nearly stumbling on his own feet as he dodged Marik’s arms expertly. Marik was mortified and took just as many steps back as him. 

It was actually the real life, living and breathing Bakura Ryou. Right there in front of him, holding onto his books for dear life. Marik stared openly. This wasn’t a dream, was it? Ryou had come to him, _pulled his sleeve_. Not the other way around. And he had almost punched him. Marik found his throat parched, words disappearing from his mind. 

“I…” Ryou said quietly, hugging the books closer to his chest. “I just… Oh dear.”

“What?” Marik asked awkwardly and hid his sweaty palms into his pockets. Ryou looked agitated, cheeks flushed pink and a frustrated frown on his face. 

“I was wondering if… if maybe you and I could talk after school. A- about yesterday?”

Marik didn’t care that they were in the middle of a student filled corridor, he didn’t care that the pale teen’s words nearly drowned in the noise, because he heard it clear enough. And his heart was soaring. His skin felt two sizes too small for him and his whole body felt like he should have been running laps instead of standing awkwardly there before the most beautiful human being he had ever seen. 

He could say anything, start building the trust again, let him know he had changed for better. This was his chance, his moment to show Ryou he was not the bully he had been before. And all would start with the next words that came out of his mouth. 

“Sure,” he said. His tongue felt like a dead fish between his teeth. He could have said anything. Instead he had said ‘sure’.

He was never going to win this. 

Ryou nodded. “Meet me at the… at the front gate after school?” he spoke. 

“Sure.”

Fucking sure. 

“Alright,” Ryou said. “Ah… Bye.”

“Yeah.” Marik watched him turn around and trot out of his sight. His heart was beating a thousand miles a minute, like he was preparing for a fight. He felt glorious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be taking a short break from updating. A few days, maybe, hopefully not longer than a week to get some schoolwork done. Then I'll be back to the daily updates. 
> 
> Hope you've been enjoying this so far. I'll be back soon.


	8. Chapter 8

The moment the last bell rang, Marik was out of his seat and out of school. In his mind he knew it was stupid, him running to the front gates would not make Ryou arrive there any sooner, but he couldn’t stop himself. He was there when the bells had barely stopped ringing and he waited. 

Marik’s whole body felt jittery. He was unable to stay still for long, his fingers twitching and feet tapping a nervous rhythm. Slowly other students started to roll out through the doors, walking past him. They paid him no mind, caring almost as little about him as he did for them. Marik was desperately looking for that one very easily recognizable head of white hair. 

And he spotted him soon enough, but Ryou wasn’t alone. 

Marik felt his fingers curling into fists as he recognized the company Bakura Ryou was keeping. How could he not? There was only one person he knew who had hair that ridiculous. 

Mutou Yugi was chatting happily to Ryou, his hands waving about as he explained something to the other teen. The short munchkin hopped around and made a big gesture, smiling widely. 

And Ryou, he smiled. 

Marik ground his teeth together. 

It was a strained smile, meek and forced, but smile all the same. And suddenly Marik could feel jealousy lifting its ugly head. It fed his anger. Year ago it had been the gasoline for his fire. Seeing Ryou with his friends, happy and carefree. 

His nails were digging into his palms painfully. 

_“Jealousy is not a strong man’s trait, I think. It is a sign of a weakness of the soul, fear of losing something that might not have been yours to begin with,”_ Ishizu had said before he left Egypt. He hadn’t thought about it much before, but now the older Ishtar sibling’s words sounded like sage advice. 

He drew a long breath, held it and then let it out. Then he uncurled his fingers and concentrated on breathing steadily instead of staring at Ryou and Mutou approaching slowly. 

Ryou spotted him soon enough, the fake smile slipping away. He said something to the annoying munchkin and walked to Marik. Mutou was staring openly their way in clear discomfort. Marik sneered at him. It didn’t seem to put his mind at ease. 

“Hey Ryou,” Mutou said carefully. “What’s going on?”

“It’s okay, Yugi,” Ryou turned to say to him. 

Marik couldn’t help himself, he didn’t even try. He shot a nasty grin at Mutou over Ryou’s head when the white haired teen wasn’t looking. Mutou looked absolutely terrified. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I could get the teachers and – “

“It’s okay, Yugi,” Ryou said a bit more sternly. “Thank you.”

Marik absolutely loved the confused glare the pipsqueak sent his way before leaving. He wasn’t going to scold himself for this little lapse, he just wanted to make the little creep’s skin crawl. Yeah, look at me, he thought. Look at me with your friend. I’m hanging out with Bakura Ryou now. What are you going to do about it?

The two friends bid their farewells, Mutou leaving the school grounds. Ryou turned around to look at him and Marik dropped the smug grin immediately, regret filling his stomach with acid. Had Ryou seen it? Marik’s cheeks were uncomfortably warm and he had to look away. He hid his hands into his pockets again. There at least they couldn’t do anything stupid causing this situation to turn into an even more embarrassing affair.

Silence hung over them like a suffocating blanket. Ryou was playing with his fingers, wringing them to angles that looked painful while Marik was apparently trying to dig his way through his pockets and pretend like he wasn’t staring. Was he supposed to say something? Start up a conversation? He looked at Ryou. He looked like he was trying to say something, opening and closing his mouth without a single syllable making it out. He looked positively uncomfortable. 

Well, that made two of them. 

“Ah, look – “ Marik started. His right arm shot out of its pocket without his permission and went straight to his neck, rubbing vigorously. “Yesterday was… uh…”

“Were you following me?”

No. Say no, deny everything. 

“…Yes?”

“Is that… is that a question?” Ryou asked, brown eyes flicking to him and then away. The brief connection sent tingles down his spine. 

Stupid mouth, lie! Hide the evidence!

“Yeah, I was following you.”

Stupid, stupid, _stupid!_

“…Why?”

Marik licked his lips and looked at his shoes. 

“Saw the bruises. Needed to make sure that didn’t happen again.”

Ryou looked up again, but looked away as quickly as before. 

“But…” he started weakly, unable to finish what he was going to say. Marik tried so hard not to stare at him like an idiot, but the boy was without a doubt the most interesting thing happening in the schoolyard at the moment.

“But _why?_ ” Ryou finished, finally looking up longer than before, actually looking at his face now, even though he still avoided eye contact. 

Why? Wasn’t that the question of the day? And a heavy one at that. Marik bit his tongue, looking at Ryou’s book bag rather than Ryou himself. He was going to make a fool out of himself, wasn’t he? He was going to bare his soul out here and Ryou was going to turn him down. 

“You didn’t accept my apology,” he said gruffly. “Needed to… Needed to pay back somehow. Owed you that much.”

Ryou was silent. His eyes were like needles sinking into Marik’s skin, pushing through his flesh and into his bones, forcing him to stay still until it was over. 

“You don’t owe me _anything,_ ” he said quietly. There was anger in his voice, tenseness in his stance. “I don’t _want_ anything from you.”

It hurt. It really did. Cut through him like a knife. But somehow Marik couldn’t find it in himself to be angry. That was a new feeling. Rather empty, actually.

“I get that,” he said slowly. “But that don’t mean I’m going to stop following you and beating up your bullies.”

Silence. Absolute silence. Marik’s ears were ringing with it as he waited for Ryou to say something. Anything really. Slowly realization sunk into his stomach. He really should have kept his mouth shut again. No matter what he said, he always managed to make the guy hate him even more. 

The schoolyard was empty now, everyone had either gone home or they were having fun at some after school activities. But the two of them just stood there, like they were stuck in time. 

Ryou looked away dejectedly. He closed his eyes and drew a heavy sigh. 

“I guess I can’t stop you,” he said. “I never could. And as long as you… keep your distance… It doesn’t matter.”

Marik waited with a baited breath for him to continue, but Ryou was silent. 

“You… You won’t even see me,” he said. “I’ll keep my distance. You won’t even see I’m there.”

The look Ryou gave him spoke loudly. But I will know, it said, and it did it’s damn best to snuff out the small hope that had dared to ignite in Marik’s chest. 

“That… That’s not why I wanted to talk to you, though,” Ryou said and started wringing his fingers again, pulling and twisting them. “I just… I wanted to… Oh no.”

The poor guy looked like he was starting to panic. Marik had to actively force his feet to stay on the ground so he wouldn’t either turn and run or reach out to pat Ryou’s shoulder or something as embarrassing as that. 

“What?” he asked callously. It was the best he could do. 

“I just wanted to know… Maybe I could ask you to do something for me?”

What? Marik’s mouth was suddenly extremely dry again. He wanted to shout yes, wanted to grab Ryou’s hands and look him in the eye while telling him he’d do just about anything to get on his good side. 

“Have you… ah… have you told anyone about… yesterday?”

Confused, Marik tilted his head and ran his fingers through his hair. What was this now? No, he hadn’t talked about it, who would he talk with? Oh, well, there had been Malik, but that hardly counted. 

“No,” he said simply. “Why would I?”

“Good,” the boy said quickly. “Good. I… I don’t want you to tell anyone, okay? I don’t… I don’t want anyone to know.”

He didn’t want people to know Marik had saved his skin? The thought stung more than it should have, but he pretended to shrug it away. 

“Yeah, sure. No big deal. It’s not like I have people to talk to anyway.”

Ryou seemed to deflate before him, like a tire that had been punctured. He nodded feebly. 

“Good,” he said silently. Ryou lifted his bag and straightened it on his back. “Good,” he said a bit more loudly. “I… I will go now. I don’t… Are you… are you going to follow me?”

Marik licked his teeth and shuffled his feet. What was he supposed to say? Lie? The guy already knew the answer. 

“Yeah,” he grumbled. 

Ryou was pale, well, paler than usual, but nodded stiffly. He squared his shoulders and straightened his back, turning around and starting to walk. Marik gave him some room, waiting until he was almost out of view before hiding his hands in his pockets and following. 

This conversation hadn’t gone how he would have wanted, but there was nothing new about that.


	9. Chapter 9

This was the new norm. Arriving at school on time, working hard and paying attention to what the teachers were saying. He was taking proper notes about the lessons since that seemed to help. Every Thursday he met up with his counselor, talked about life and all that bull. At school he kept an eye on Ryou, but stopped following him around in the corridors. The Friendship Gang seemed to have made an enemy out of him. He was getting wary glares his way when he passed them, but none of them had anything to say. Marik would sneer at them when he saw them looking. If they had complaints, they might as well grow the balls to come and say it to his face. 

After school he would follow Ryou, just far enough that Ryou still stayed in sights. Marik would follow him home and then return back to his own, do his homework and try to make sense out of his studies. The initial excitement of studying was wearing thin, though, as more new information was piling on the already shaky knowledge he had on the various school subjects. 

Marik didn’t speak to Ryou again. He tried to tell himself that it was probably for the best, but that didn’t help much with his pining. It got to a point where he would sit in class, staring out of the window, thinking about Ryou while he should have been paying attention to the teacher. 

Pathetic. 

Ryou for his part was keeping as far away from him as possible. At school he’d avoid Marik like he was carrying the plague, looking everywhere but at him when they would inevitably cross paths. Outside of school he would sometimes turn around and see if Marik really was following him or not. He never stopped to acknowledge his presence, thought. And life continued peacefully. 

Marik realized that he had gone a long time without his rage getting a hold of him. That was really great. Too bad the only people he could gloat to about it were on the other side of the planet, on an entirely different continent. 

All in all things were calm, it was manageable at the best of times. But that was when the exam week started and Marik found himself slipping. 

He had stopped caring about exams a long time ago. Maybe when he was younger, he had been worried about his test scores, but those worries had been buried a long time ago. 

Now his nerves were strung tight, sweat pooling at his neck. 

He felt trapped in the classroom, staring down at his maths exam. It was the first exam of the week and if this was anything to go by, the week was going to be pure hell. The numbers and signs on the paper made no sense, the bright white paper and the buzzing lamps above head were making his head hurt. The pencil in his hand was trembling like crazy and he had written down nothing so far.

He hadn’t prepared enough. Marik couldn’t understand the questions. What was… what was he supposed to be doing again? How long had he been here already? How much time did he have left? His head was really hurting and his eyes had grown hazy a little while ago. The simple act of breathing calmly felt like too big of a challenge right now. 

This was the first damn test and he was going to fail gloriously. 

The pencil snapped in half in his hand, falling on the table with a clatter that echoed in the silent classroom like an explosion. The teacher lifted her eyes and looked at him disapprovingly. She was judging him, the eyes behind her half-moon glasses told that she had already decided he was going to fail. 

They all thought he was going to crash and fall. That’s what they’d been waiting for. They wanted to see him struggle only to fall flat on the ground. 

His fists were trembling on the desk. Had he remembered to take his meds this morning? Last night? His mind was going blank. 

“Marik Ishtar,” the teacher said. “Is everything alright?”

Now the students were staring at him as well, gauging, judging. Marik looked around, wild-eyed, baring his teeth. He needed to get out of here. 

He grabbed his empty paper and bag, dumping the paper on the teacher’s desk and all but ran out of the class. The teacher shouted after him, but he didn’t stop to listen. He needed to get out of here or he was going to do something stupid. He shoved other people out of his way too far gone to even see who he was running into. He made his way to the schoolyard and didn’t stop. Marik wasn’t even paying attention where he was going anymore.

How had he ever thought this was going to work? It was all Malik’s fault for telling him he could do it if he just “tried hard enough”. Marik was a no-good punk, always had been. He was too much like his father, a violent bastard who could do nothing right. How had he even for a second thought he could be anything more when everyone else had already decided that there was no redemption for him? 

And they were right, of course they were. He had been a complete asshole before. He had taken his uncontrollable anger and vented it on others. The one boy he had had a crush on had taken the worst of it. How could someone like that change?

He really was the worst of the worst and Ryou was right. He should stay the hell away from him. 

Marik didn’t look where he was running. Pushing himself forward, he put all of his energy in movement, going forward and leaving thinking behind. He pushed, pushed and pushed until he felt like his lungs were going to rip out and his legs hurt. Only then did Marik let himself stop, leaning an arm against a wall and just gasping for air. One lungful of air after another, blood pumping in his veins. He was heaving hard, almost doubled over. Marik felt like he was going to be sick. 

“Fuck!” he shouted and hit his fist against the wall. His eyes were stinging but he would be damned before he started crying over some shitty math exam. 

“Oh look, he finally stopped running.”

Marik lifted his head so fast he thought he was going to dislocate it. The voice was familiar, even if he couldn’t place it. Only now did he realize that he had ran out of the open streets and out of people’s eyes into an alleyway and that someone – or rather a group of people – had followed in after him. 

It was that thug from before, the one that had been harassing Ryou. Marik bared his teeth in disgust. So the man had decided to come for seconds. Fine by him, to be honest. He was angry, frustrated and ready to take it out on someone. 

Too bad the man had brought more friends this time. More nameless henchmen, dressed in leather jackets and other cliché paraphernalia. Marik counted five of them, all looking far too smug for his liking. Well, he was going to change that soon enough. 

“We have a bit of a score to settle,” the leader said. “Last time didn’t end as well as I’d hoped.”

Yeah? Well fuck that, Marik couldn’t care less what the thug thought. He cracked his knuckles. 

“We had a good thing going on between Ryou and I, and you just had to butt in,” the man said lazily, eyeing his nails and trying his damnest to look cool while doing it. “The good little boy pays us money and we leave his friends alone. Simple deal. Everyone’s happy. Except you, apparently.”

Marik sneered at the man, pressure building up in his head. Veins were starting to show on his face, barely contained rage making them visible. 

“So I say we make a new deal,” the leader said with a lazy smile. “You pay us and we’ll stop bothering little Ryou.”

Oh, so this was how it was going to play out? Marik’s lips stretched into a grin that made the leader take a hasty step back. Marik started to laugh, a high-pitched sound that seemed to make the thugs extremely uncomfortable. 

“Idiots,” he said staring at them with wide-eyed mirth. “You think I’m going to let you get close to him again?”

“What do you –?“

Before the leader of the thugs could finish his question, Marik had launched at him, grabbing the man by the throat, the guy’s right arm in his left. He twisted the arm, putting on pressure and forcing it to angle it wasn’t supposed to be bent at. When Marik felt the bone break, he let go, throwing the guy aside. 

The man howled in pain, holding his arm and backing away. 

“Get him!” he shouted. “Get him you idiots!”

Four on one was hardly a fair fight and they were giving it their all. But they clearly hadn’t fought a maniac before. Marik didn’t care how many times they managed to land a punch on him, the pain just drove him forward. He wanted these people to know who they were messing with, wanted them to remember him and know their place. He was laughing the whole way through, managed to floor one of the thugs before another got a behind his back and got his arms around his neck. The thug was holding Marik still while the remaining two went to town on him. The leader was nursing his arm, watching as they beat him. 

“I hope you’ll learn your lesson, boy – “ he started. 

“Hey!” someone shouted. “I’ve called the police, you know, and they’re on their way!”

Wow. Marik must have hit his head pretty bad at one point, because that sounded like Bakura Ryou to him. 

“Shit!” the leader hissed. “Leave him, we’re getting out of here!”

Marik was dumped unceremoniously on the dirty pavement, face first against the ground. His whole body hurt like hell and as his hazy eyes focused on the ground he could see blood. Most of it was his, he reckoned. Some of it was theirs, though, and that thought made him positively giddy. 

A pair of clean shoes came into his line of vision as Marik tried to get up. He was swaying and his head hurt like it was about to split. 

Shit. The cops. They could be here any minute now. He needed to get out before they could lay the blame on him. 

A hand rested on his shoulder and Marik turned around growling at the offending appendage. A hazy figure stumbled back hastily, giving him more space. 

He needed to get going, needed to leave right away, but his body was fighting against that decision with everything it had. His side was hurting so bad something must have broken there. Marik blinked slowly, trying to get his vision back in check and looked up again. 

Oh shit. Oh no. _Oh shit._

He hadn’t hit his head as hard as he had thought. That was, indeed, Ryou standing a few steps away, holding onto his bag like he always did, fingers bloodless with the force he was putting on them. Ryou was looking at him warily, timid as always. 

Marik had managed to get up so that he was sitting on his ass now and not lying on his stomach and he could properly drop his head into his hands. Bakura Ryou had actually had his hand on his shoulder and Marik had _growled_ at him. Why couldn’t the world just cut him a break sometimes? 

“Sorry,” he said, a trail of blood trickling from a split lip. He tried to wipe it away but only managed to smear the sleeve of his jacket. “Thought you were someone else.”

Bakura Ryou relaxed a little, still holding onto his bag for dear life, though. 

He tried to get on his feet only to fall back down again. Damn it. Hitting against the ground hurt so bad he couldn’t stop a whine escaping his mouth. Marik gritted his teeth to keep from making further noises. Now was not the time to show weakness, Ryou was _right there._

He was just staring at Marik. Ryou was completely silent and it put Marik on the edge. What was he thinking? How long had he been there? He must have seen how badly those guys had gotten to him, so what was Ryou thinking now? The last time they had talked, Ryou had barely even looked at him, during the last few weeks he had been avoiding Marik and now that he was finally staring down at him his face was clear of any revealing emotion. 

Marik tried to rise up again, falling back down just as fast as before. He cursed loudly to cover his pain, more blood trickling to his chin. Great. Just great. He was on his knees, breathing loudly and he needed to get going.

Well, third time’s the charm. 

“Stop it.”

Ryou’s voice made Marik pause and look up at him. Ryou had moved a bit closer but was still too far off to touch. Marik grimaced. 

“Not to be ungrateful or anything, but I need to get going. The cops…” He didn’t finish his sentence. He was pretty sure Ryou knew that he was already in way too much trouble to get caught with cops. 

“No one’s coming,” he said slowly. 

“No, but the cops – “

“I didn’t call the police. I only said I did. To get them to leave. No one’s coming.”

Marik stared at him, head spinning from his vigorous attempts at getting up. He didn’t know what to say, so he just stared. 

Ryou started to fidget after a while, the heavy gaze clearly making him uncomfortable. Marik dropped his eyes to the ground. 

“Oh,” he said. “Well… Thanks.”

“They were going to kill you,” Ryou said. His voice sounded way too high. 

“Nah,” he grunted and tried his sides. It hurt something nasty and he was pretty sure something was broken. The question was: how bad was the damage? He knew from experience that one broken rib could be dealt with at home. His mom used to give Marik a bag of frozen veggies every time dad had gotten too drunk and that usually helped, even with broken bones. But if there were more than one, if Marik had ended up with multiple broken bones, then that meant a trip to the hospital. A trip he couldn’t afford. Marik prodded his side, pushing more, trying the pain. “They just wanted to make their point clear.”

Ryou was moving his feet around nervously, the book bag dropped from his chest to hang from his limp hands. 

“Did they do this because… because…”

“Because of last time?” he asked. “Yeah.”

“Oh.”

Marik backed away against a wall and used it as leverage to get on his feet. This time he didn’t fall, even if it did hurt like hell. He was pretty happy with himself for it. 

“I’m sorry.”

Ryou’s voice was so small it might have gone completely unheard if Marik hadn’t been so hyper sensitive about everything he did. It was almost like Ryou didn’t want him to hear it. Marik pushed some hair out of his eyes and looked at him. 

“What?” he asked. 

Ryou didn’t repeat and Marik was starting to believe that he might have imagined it. 

Marik knew he was in trouble now. This was going to be a bit harder to explain than his previous actions. He’d run off from a test, barreled out of school in the middle of the day and gotten into a fight. And he was pretty sure he looked like roadkill, if the pain was anything to go by. 

Just wonderful. 

“You… You need to come with me.”

Marik looked at Ryou incredulously. Was he hearing right?

“I… You’re not going to the hospital, are you?” Ryou asked, cheeks tinted red. 

“No… No I’m not.” 

“Then… let me help you. I… I’ll help you clean your wounds.”

No. This was not happening, not really. There was no way this was real. Marik stared at Ryou with unbelieving eyes. The thugs had beaten him and he was lying unconscious on the ground, hallucinating his crush walking closer to him, looking up shyly, blushing like a virgin bride. 

Oh God, his face was heating up. Good thing he was already so bloody and bruised, the mess was hiding away his shame. 

“That’s…” he started. “That’s okay, I can patch myself up just fine.” What was he saying? Someone stop him!

“No, I… I insist.”

Okay. Okay, he could do this. Marik took a tentative step away from the wall, trying his weight on his feet. Good. They carried him just fine. His side gave a nasty jolt, the broken rib radiating pain. Marik put a hand over it, breathing in slowly, willing the pain to go away. Didn’t help much, but he wasn’t going to let go any time soon just in case it would in the future. 

Ryou took a few steps back, backpedaling away to keep Marik in his sights. Then he nodded and turned around, walking out of the alley. Marik followed after, trying to move in a way that would hurt as little as possible. It was harder than it looked even though Marik was making it look pretty damn hard. 

He held his free hand to his face and tried the area under his eye. Marik hissed at the pain. They’d gotten him good. His face would be colored like a rainbow the next day and there was no way the teachers wouldn’t notice. They were already suspicious, now they would rain down on him like justice from above. 

Marik looked at Ryou leading the way and smiled a little. He couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

The smile dropped when it became too painful to hold. Marik kept his hand on his cheek, running his tongue over his teeth. He could taste blood, but he hadn’t lost any teeth. He moved his tongue around his mouth, gathering the blood and spat it on the ground. 

Ryou turned to look at him, a look of disgust flitting across his face. 

“…Sorry,” Marik muttered. 

The boy jumped a little and turned his eyes back up ahead. Marik shoved his hand to his pocket. 

The familiar apartment building came to view quickly as Ryou led them expertly around the city. People were staring at Marik, whispering as he passed them. They seemed to have a lot to say about the clearly beat up foreign looking boy, but again, no one wanted to get closer to ask if he was all right. And Marik was fine with it. He was with the only person who mattered and he at least seemed to care. 

Ryou entered a code to the front door of the building, holding the door open for him. Marik hobbled into the cool, well air-conditioned entry hall and looked around in awe. His mother’s apartment would have fit at least three times here. There was even one of those receptionist guys or doormen or whatever sitting behind a counter, dressed neatly and smiling at Ryou when they walked in. It wasn’t the same guy as last year, though. Lucky for him, Marik thought. He doubted the old guy would have taken too kindly to the former bully showing up suddenly. 

The doorman’s smile vanished the moment he got a closer look at Marik and the condition he was in. The man was up from his seat immediately, rushing to Marik’s side, eyes wide. Marik took a hasty step back. He didn’t like how close the man was getting. 

“Oh my God,” the man said. “Is your friend alright, Bakura? Do I need to call –?“

“No, no, Mr. Kimura, we’re fine here,” Ryou said fluidly, turning to regard the man with the most charming of smiles. “You are very kind to worry, but my friend here has just had a real rough day and he doesn’t need any more trouble.”

Marik’s whole body was filled with nervous energy at the words: ‘my friend’. Somewhere in his gut something warm ignited and made a nest there, just bellow the spot his anger usually coiled around. 

“Come on,” Ryou whispered leading Marik towards the elevators. His hand ghosted near Marik’s back, not quite touching, but there all the same. If Marik were to make a quick move, they would have connected. He wanted to, just to see Ryou’s reaction, but fought the urge. It wouldn’t be smart to ruin the little peace that had miraculously appeared between for the time being. Didn’t mean Marik didn’t really want to do it, though. 

The elevator took them to the sixth floor. Even the stairways were nicely furnished, impressive carpets looking like they were brand new. All of it was so fancy. Marik really was out of place in here. He had blood trickling down his chin and he wiped it off and let it fall to the ground, just to leave a little mark of himself behind. Ryou didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he didn’t care. 

They were nearly at Ryou’s door, when a neighbor got out. An elderly lady dressed in her finest, a small poodle at her feet. She looked up at Ryou, ready to greet but stopped on her tracks when she saw Marik. Her white brows fell into an immediate frown. 

“Bakura, my boy,” she said slowly. “Why is this cretin back in our building?”

“I’m sorry Miss Tanaka. It’s alright. He’s here as my guest,” Ryou said, his head low. 

“Is that so?” the old bat asked. Marik ground his teeth together. “I’m going to call the police.”

“No you fucking won’t,” Marik growled, stepping towards the lady and the dog. Well, more like limped. But his movements were stopped by a pale hand resting on his arm. It was like his feet had glued themselves to the ground as the smallest of touches filled his arm with electricity. One of Ryou’s fingers reached under the sleeve his shirt and brushed accidentally against the bare skin underneath and Marik’s whole arm was tingling for it. His breath caught in his throat. 

“Please, Miss Tanaka,” Ryou pleaded. “It isn’t like that. He isn’t here to cause trouble. Please do not call anyone, I can handle this on my own.”

Tanaka looked her neighbor up and down. Then she turned her sharp eyes to Marik. Her lips thinned to a tight line and the corner of her mouth rose to a sneer. 

“The last time I saw him, he was trying to get into your apartment. I called the police then, didn’t I?”

“Yes, and I’m glad you did. But things have changed since then,” Ryou assured. 

“Indeed,” the old lady said. “Instead of you appearing all battered up, it is he bruised and bleeding. A welcome change, I would say.”

Marik bared his teeth, spooking back both the lady and the dog at her feet. The old bat looked absolutely appalled at the sight of his bloodied teeth, tilting her head up just so she could stare at Marik down her nose even though he was almost a full head taller than her. 

“It is up to you, dear,” she sniffed. “But I am going to have a word with your father about this.”

“Of course,” Ryou said tonelessly and gave a small bow to the woman marching away. Marik shot a glare at her as she stepped into the elevator and she gave an evil eye to him. Well, wasn’t this just splendid? He hadn’t been back for even five minutes and he was already making enemies. 

He could hardly remember a thing about the first time he had barged into this place. It had been just a few days before he was sent to Egypt. He had been absolutely livid, out of his mind with anger and Ryou had been the poor sod at the receiving end of it. Ryou had tried to escape his wrath into his home and Marik had followed close behind. He could remember yelling, banging at his door and crying. The memory alone made him feel worse. How could Ryou even consider inviting him in now? After the asshole he had been? Marik stared at his feet. 

Bakura Ryou’s keys jingled in the lock and he opened his door. 

Marik swallowed and followed in after him.


	10. Chapter 10

He couldn’t believe it. This was it, the innermost sanctum. The most sacred. 

Bakura Ryou’s home. 

Marik stood rooted to his spot in Ryou’s living room. He looked around in wonder. The whole house was filled with this clean sort of smell, a smell that stung his nostrils and made him feel a little uneasy. It was almost overwhelming. Marik didn’t dare to move fearing that he would mess the place up by just existing. His clothes were dirty and torn, bloody from places. He couldn’t even sit on the couch in fear of smudging the clean white cover. Everything was so neat in here, spotless clean. 

It was almost like no one actually even lived here. 

Ryou had disappeared into the kitchen soon after they had entered and Marik could hear him rummaging through cabinets there. Meanwhile Marik was left alone and he didn’t know what to do. So he just stood there on his spot, holding onto his side and waiting to be told what to do. 

The only sign of life in this whole place were the picture frames on the wall. Pictures of the Bakura family. Marik licked his teeth, looking at the direction of the kitchen where Ryou was still making himself busy. Pulling his free hand out of his pocket, he moved closer. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like he was treading on forbidden ground here. These were personal pictures. Did he really have any right to take a closer look?

The first pictures were all so happy and sappy they made Marik feel even more uncomfortable. There were so many happy memories there. Father and son at a dig site, a beach vacation with sandcastles, some European city destination, all four members of the family smiling at the camera and waving. Those sorts of things. The pictures on the left were clearly older, time passing on as he moved to the right. Like a timeline of the Bakura family. But looking through the pictures made him realize a clear evolution on the family dynamic as time moved on. At one point the size of the family had been halved, mother and sister disappearing somewhere. And the newer the picture, the paler the boy. Year by year Ryou’s smiles had grown more forced and the distance between the two living family members stretching further and further away until they were standing at the opposite corners of the pictures. It almost looked like they were waiting for the two missing family members to come back and fill the gap between them. 

The newest picture looked to be a few years old. Nothing from the passing year, Marik noted. The solemn look in Bakura Ryou’s eyes in the last picture made his insides clench. That had been around the time Marik had taken an interest in the quiet white haired boy in his school. And he had turned Ryou’s life into a living hell. 

Well, he could rest easy now knowing that his life hadn’t been that great before his involvement anyway. 

Marik had to turn away from the wall before he got sick. 

A soft sound of approaching footsteps thankfully drew his attention away from the pictures. Ryou looked like he was moving on thin ice, trying to make as little noise as possible as he tiptoed closer. He was carrying a small white box with a bag of frozen peas on top of it. Ryou didn’t look at him when he signaled towards the sofa. 

“I’m… ah… I’m just gonna bleed all over the sofa if I sit on it like this. I don’t wanna mess up your living room.”

Ryou didn’t say anything. He didn’t lift his eyes from the ground either. Marik sighed at his dejected stance and sat down on the ground. It was better than the sofa anyway. It hurt like hell, though, kneeling down onto the ground and all that. He winced, biting his teeth together at the feeling his rib was sending through. But he made it and after a few seconds of shallow breathing, the pain dulled a little. Marik raked his fingers thought his hair, finding more dry clots of blood there, tangling his hair into disgusting knots. He must have really been a sight to behold. 

Ryou shuffled a bit before sitting down on his knees next to Marik. He was so close. Marik licked his lips as the boy put down his things. Ryou lifted the bag of peas and offered it to him.

Marik grabbed it enthusiastically, putting it against his side. He groaned as the cold started to numb away the pain. What a wonderful feeling! He moved so he could rest his weight on his left hand while the right held onto the bag. 

“Did they break any ribs?” Ryou asked quietly. 

“Only one, I think,” he said. 

“How’s your breathing?” Ryou asked looking at him from under his brows. “Any trouble drawing a breath?”

He wasn’t sure why, but just having Ryou looking at him was making him blush way too hard. Marik licked his teeth and looked down at the cold bag on his side. 

“Nah,” he said. “Hurts to breathe too deep when the rib moves, but I don’t think it’s anything that needs a doctor.”

Ryou nodded and turned his attention to the white box he had brought. He opened the lid revealing a collection of basic medical equipment. He dug out a small bottle of antiseptic and a piece of clean cloth. He dabbed the cloth in the antiseptic, movements fluid and sure. It was clear Ryou knew what he was doing. There was a gash on the side of Marik’s temple and another one on his right arm, nothing too deep but painful and bloody all the same. Slowly Ryou started to clean his wounds. 

The close proximity of his long time crush was doing something awful to Marik’s nerves. All he could do was sit still and stare at him as he first cleaned the cut on his arm with warm water, then dabbed it with the stinging disinfectant. Then Ryou used his cool fingers to apply some sort of soothing cream that stung at first, but then seemed to numb the pain. Finally he drew out a fresh packet of gauze to wrap around his arm, hiding the wound from the world. And through all of this Marik couldn’t remove his stare from the beautiful look of concentration in Ryou’s brown eyes. 

When done with the arm, Ryou lifted his eyes to look at Marik and was startled by the intensity of the look Marik was giving him. Suddenly the room felt too small, Ryou looked mortified as he pulled back a little and Marik’s heart was beating too fast. 

Ryou didn’t say anything when he grabbed a fresh cloth dabbed in water and started cleaning the cut on his temple. 

If the first wound had been intense, dressing this one was torturous. Marik almost forgot about the pain radiating through his entire body when Ryou was forced to lean closer to get a good look at the wound on his head. Worse yet, he could feel Ryou’s breath wash over his face when he got close. His stare was turning hungry. 

Now that Ryou had noticed his gawking, it was clearly bothering him. Ryou looked so uncomfortable Marik almost felt sorry for him. Ryou licked his lips, doing his best to concentrate only on the cut, but Marik was doing little to help him. 

“…Stop staring at me,” he said in a small voice. 

“…Sorry,” Marik mumbled and turned his eyes down. It didn’t remove the strong emotions mulling in his stomach though, or the feeling of Bakura Ryou’s breathing on his cheek. This was something he wasn’t going to forget anytime soon. 

Ryou’s fingers were nimble using butterfly closures to keep the cut from reopening. Finished with his work Ryou pulled back and Marik was left missing the contact. A heavy silence settled between them, doing its best to suffocate Marik where he was slouching. Ryou was sitting on his legs, hands resting on his lap. He looked like he was a second away from getting up and leaving. But he didn’t move. He just sat there, looking like a coiled spring. Marik turned his attention to his side, moving the slowly melting bag of peas to take a look under his shirt. 

He was already bruising, a wide variety of new and happy colors spreading over his stomach. He hissed through his teeth and tried the skin carefully. Yep. That definitely hurt. He was going to be sore the whole week. 

“How are you feeling?”

He lifted his eyes from the bruises to the boy sitting uncomfortably still next to him. Ryou was looking at the floor, a deep frown on his face. 

“Could be worse,” Marik said slowly. He wasn’t sure what Ryou wanted to hear, so he just told the truth. He’d gotten beaten up worse before by his own dad at the age of ten. This was nothing compared to that. And it had brought him here, to Bakura Ryou’s home. For that he was ready to get beaten a hundred times more. 

“You’re going to stop following me around now?” Ryou said softly. 

Marik frowned. His words had been formed like a statement, but sounded more like a question. A weird question at that. 

“No,” he said. “They might come back. Didn’t seem like the smartest bunch. I’m going to make sure they don’t get to you.”

He wasn’t sure why, but Ryou looked really distraught by this. He was nibbling at his bottom lip, chewing on it vigorously while he stared at the hands on his lap. Maybe he was worried that now when Marik had been beaten up, the bullies would get to him somehow. Like Marik wouldn’t be able to put a stop to it. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Marik said. “They’re not going to get to you. This was nothing. I can take a beating like this any day of the week.”

Ryou lifted his eyes and looked at him guardedly. “So you would take another beating just to… what? Pay back for some debt you think you owe me?”

Why did he have to make it sound so pointless? Marik shrugged, but the motion hurt more than he’d thought. He grimaced through it. 

“Got to do something to even the score,” he said. 

“Well I don’t want your help!” Ryou shouted and jabbed a finger at him. “I didn’t want it to begin with! This was all because of you!”

Marik pulled back. He didn’t understand what the problem was. Ryou looked angry for some reason and he couldn’t for the life of him understand what he could be angry about. It wasn’t like Marik had been looking for this fight, the thugs had followed _him._

But Ryou looked too agitated to think about that. He looked almost close to tears. 

Marik felt awful. What had he done now?

“How’s this my fault?” he asked, and if a little bit of accusation got lost to his voice, well that was an accident. 

“Are you saying this was because of _me?_ ” Ryou asked and now he was actually crying. Tears were rolling down his cheeks and his tiny fists were trembling on his lap. 

“What? No! I never said anything like that,” Marik said hurriedly. “What’s this? Shit, don’t cry. This was my choice, okay? Don’t see any reason to lay the blame on anyone about it.”

Ryou huffed loudly and hit his fists against his knees. 

“I don’t understand!” he shouted. His shoulders started to shake. “Why are you doing this? You are a horrible person! So why the hell are you getting beaten up for me? I- I d- d- don’t understand!”

All Marik could do was sit still when Ryou buried his face into his hands and started sobbing uncontrollably. His whole body was trembling in tune with the sobs, flinching every time a cry escaped him. It was awful and Marik didn’t know what to do. All he knew was that this was somehow his doing and he needed do something to turn things back around, but he couldn’t for the life of him come up with anything. 

So he just sat there awkwardly with one hand holding him upright and another keeping the pea bag in place. And slowly the cries started to quiet down and Ryou hunched into a quivering pile. 

“Sorry,” Marik muttered. Apology. That was what needed to be done in a situation like this, right? Apologize. Even if he wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for. “I just… I spent the last year getting my shit together and… and it took a while to realize it, but I can see now what an asshole I used to be. Couldn’t keep my anger in check, couldn’t think straight. I just… I needed help and I didn’t know how to ask it. But I’m getting better now. I’m on medication until I can control it myself, you know?”

Ryou was silently looking at him through a veil of hair, hunched on the floor next to him. Marik had to turn away when the all too familiar sight of tears on his face made his stomach turn. 

“Took a while to find the right medication for me. Needed to try a few different pills. But I’m fine now, really. I’m not… I’m not going to do those things to you anymore, okay? I mean, I might lash out sometimes, but it’s all muted now. I won’t… I won’t hurt you, okay? I mean it.”

Ryou said nothing, just looked at him with an unreadable mask on his face. He looked suddenly so tired. 

Marik had to continue. He had to say this or he might chicken out. Ryou deserved at least some sort of an explanation. Maybe it would even help. One could always hope. 

“Some time before I got back here, I really started to think about the shit I had done while I was… like that. Before. And for once it all just crashed on me. The things I’d done. Had no good reason to do any of it. And… And I knew I had to do something, fix it somehow. Didn’t know how, though. And my cousin told me to start with apologies.”

Ryou stiffened, his eyes growing sharp. 

Marik tapped the bag on his side awkwardly and tried to lighten the mood by chuckling a little. It came out as strangled, though, and might have just made things worse. “Yeah, it didn’t go as planned, the apology. So needed to find another way to help.”

“But…” Ryou said carefully. “But why do you feel like you should apologize?” 

Marik looked at him disbelievingly. “Because I’m better now.”

It looked like Ryou was going to have something to say about that, so Marik just pushed on. 

“And it looked like no one else was doing anything about it. You just showed up at school with a big bruise on your face and no one did anything. I mean, where was Mutou when those thugs cornered you? Playing card games somewhere?”

A spark of irritation ignited in Ryou’s eyes. 

“Don’t bring them into this,” he said harshly. 

“And why not?” Marik asked, poison seeping into his voice. “What happened to the ‘power of friendship’ and all that shit?”

“Shut up!” Ryou shouted. 

“Aren’t friends kind of supposed to keep something like that from happening to you?”

It shouldn’t have hurt that much. It really shouldn’t, but maybe he could blame the bruises on his cheek for the sharp pain when Ryou punched him across the face. Wasn’t that hard of a punch, Ryou clearly didn’t give his all for it, but it was the action itself that hurt more than the physical violence. Marik’s head was whipped to the side by the force of it and he left it there. Anything was better than looking at Ryou now. 

“Sorry,” he muttered again. 

He got nothing from Ryou and he didn’t dare to look at him to see the hatred there. He had done enough damage here already. 

It was probably time to leave anyway. Marik lifted the now lukewarm bag from his side and put it down next to the medical box. Getting up was harder than he’d remembered, his sides screamed in pain as he pushed himself upright. For a moment his view became blurred and the room was spinning around him. A few deep breaths helped with that. 

“I’m leaving,” he said needlessly. He started limping towards the door. 

Ryou was up on his feet immediately, walking after him. 

“What if they come back?” he asked, voice suddenly quite a bit higher than just a minute ago. 

“They won’t get past your doorman, don’t worry,” Marik said and forced a smile onto his lips. 

“No, but I meant… What if they come after you again?”

“Huh?”

If he closed his eyes now and let his imagination fly, he could pretend like Ryou was worried about his safety. It was a feeling so good it took over his brain, leaving him silent for a moment too long. Marik shook his head, forcing the thought out before it could make a permanent home there. Ryou had just punched him for the shit he’d said. That should have been a signal clear enough. 

“Don’t think they’ll be back for a while. They probably think they got their message through to me. I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said and shrugged. 

Ryou didn’t look convinced. He was wringing his fingers. 

“…Maybe… Maybe you should stay a bit longer,” he said. 

Nope. Not a good idea. No way. He needed to leave before he could do something more to ruin this moment. He had done enough already. 

“I need to go,” he said. “Uh… Exam week. Need to study.” Yeah. That was a good enough reason. That was believable, right?

The look on Ryou’s face said it wasn’t. But he stepped back all the same and Marik ran out through the door.


	11. Chapter 11

Marik slipped out of home before his mother could see his sorry state the next morning. His face had colored spectacularly, swollen from places and leaving an ugly shine to his skin. Marik didn’t even try to hide it. What was the point? The teachers would notice it anyway. 

He was getting wide-eyed looks from the other students as he limped past them. He wore a constant scowl that coupled with his new and improved state sent the people scattering out of his way. This was going to start a few rumors for sure. People would have a lot to say about the former bully getting his comeuppance. Marik tried his lower lip with his tongue. It was still swollen and felt like it too. The spilt had stopped bleeding sometime during his visit to Bakura residence, but he’d ripped it open again at home gnawing at it. The worst was his side, of course, but he’d popped a few painkillers before exiting the house and he could live with it. 

It would blow over sooner or later. Besides, he still didn’t regret any of it. 

He’d had the longest conversation with Bakura Ryou since his bullying days. And it had almost gone great. There’d been almost no crying and shouting. That was great. He hadn’t manhandled Ryou even once. 

And he had to admit that he had fallen asleep petting the gauze on his injured arm, conjuring up the feeling of Ryou’s breath on his face again. 

He blew past a group of people, their whispering voices following after him like a swarm of flies. Marik bit his teeth together harder. Yes, he had remembered to take his medication today. He was going to be calm, he wasn’t going to dash out of the classroom before finishing his test.

He was going to be just fine.

“Marik Ishtar.”

He stopped on his tracks, turning around to see who had the guts to call his name. To his utter embarrassment he recognized his math teacher, walking after him with a determined step. 

Oh no. He was in it for now. Marik’s shoulders sagged in defeat. No reason to run away from this one. 

“Can I have a word with you, Ishtar?” the teacher asked. Her tone was strict, but surprisingly not unkind. “We still have some time before your test starts.”

Marik looked at the clock on the wall. Fifteen minutes, twenty since his history teacher would probably prep the class before handing out the tests. He shrugged and followed after her as she walked into an empty classroom. Her heels were clacking loudly against the floor as she made her way behind a desk, waving her hand for him to grab a chair for himself. 

Once Marik got sitting, he sighed deeply, regretted it immediately and tried to find a more comfortable position to sit in. It seemed like no matter how he moved, his side was reminding him of its existence. The test was going to be hard on him. 

The teacher was leaning her hands against the desk, fingers looped with one another. Again, she looked tired, but not angry. It didn’t seem to fit into the situation. Wasn’t this where she was supposed to chew him and spit him out once she was done? 

“I would like to talk about your actions yesterday,” she started slowly. “You rushing out of my class, leaving your paper clean.”

Marik stared at his hands. He knew he needed to say something, but once again his verbal communication skills were leaving him stranded. 

The teacher waited for him to start talking, but once it became clear he wasn’t going to, she sighed and continued. 

“I, among quite a few of the teachers, was surprised to see you back after you left a year ago. I remembered you as… the hooligan you were before, a kid with a future in juvenile detention and little more. Imagine my surprise when you came back quiet, even somewhat well behaved. You actually started to pay attention on my classes and I have heard from other teachers that I wasn’t the only one seeing this change.”

What was this? Marik looked up at the woman, then back down at his hands. This wasn’t exactly what he had been expecting. 

“We are aware that you are trying and it warms this old girl’s heart, but you can’t just dash out from an exam like that. And to return back on the next day looking like you got run over by a car. We worry about you.”

He was speechless looking at his teacher. He had been preparing to get thrown out, maybe even expelled. But not this. Never this. His teacher, whose name he couldn’t even remember, gave him a tight-lipped smile, something that reminded him of Ishizu. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking down at his hands. “I… I lost my temper, wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“You had been doing so much better at my class,” the teacher lamented. “I had such high hopes. You will have to try again in the retake.”

He nodded mutely. The teacher got up from her seat and straightened her jacket. 

“Good. Now you better get going before the tests start. I am not going to ask about your appearance, but I have to warn you that if you continue coming to school looking like roadkill, we are going to have to get involved.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“Make sure that is true,” the woman said nodding sharply and adjusting the glasses on her nose. 

History had definitely been Marik’s second strongest subject this period, coming second only to PE. That didn’t mean the test was easy, though. Even though it had been easier to read through a book and to memorize a handful of redundant years, he was still a long way from acing the test. Marik surprised himself by being able to answer more than half of the questions, though, and he even managed to write more than a few lines into his essay. He wasn’t going to come out of it with shining grades, but he had a good feeling this would be above average for him. 

And that was good. He needed a little bit of good news in his life every now and then. 

He even got out of the test an hour before the ending time. He tried not to look too smug when he handed out the paper to his teacher. 

Now he needed to find out if Bakura Ryou had already finished his test and went home. 

Knowing Ryou’s timetable by heart Marik knew he would have a chemistry test today. Marik meandered towards the classroom where it was being held. The good thing about Domino High’s chemistry classes was that they had large windows opening to both the outside world and the hallways of the school. He tried to look as carefree as possible as he peeked in. 

There was no sign of Ryou inside. Marik rubbed his side. Worry made his insides clench as he made his way towards the front doors. Ryou must have already finished his test and gone home. He hoped there hadn’t been any trouble. 

More students were trickling out of their exams, grabbing their bags and making their way outside. Marik followed the flow to the cooling late autumn air. What was he supposed to do now, then? Just go home, probably. It felt a little weird. He’d grown so used to making his way to Ryou’s building and then going home that cutting that little detour didn’t feel natural. But Marik supposed there was nothing else to do, so might as well go home early and… study or something. 

Marik didn’t get even half way across the schoolyard when he spotted Ryou. He stopped in his tracks. Ryou was standing by the school gates, staring at the people passing him, looking like he was waiting for someone, holding tight onto his bag and scanning the masses. Marik sighed in relief. Good. At least now he knew what to do. Marik could wait for Ryou to finish whatever he was doing and they could go about their normal routines. The clenching in his guts eased up a bit when he settled to wait a small distance away. He leaned against the school building, trying to find a comfortable position. He was in no hurry, there was nothing waiting for him at home anyway, save for his mom. And if there was any chance Marik could postpone having to deal with that shit, he was willing to take it. 

Less and less people were passing by them as most had already left for home to study for their other tests. Only a few stragglers were left behind, until even they were gone. Ryou still hadn’t noticed him. Or maybe he had and was just pretending like he hadn’t. Marik didn’t really mind. At least they weren’t fighting. He rubbed his cheek in thought. He’d never thought Ryou would end up hitting him. Not that he hadn’t deserved it, Marik supposed. It was a warning sign, he decided. To keep things like they’d been. To not try to reach too far. Ryou didn’t like him. And that was fair, even if Marik didn’t like it. So it was best to keep his distance. 

Although, it had been Ryou who had saved him yesterday, not the other way around. The thought made Marik smile and run his tongue over the scab on his lip. 

They must have stayed like that for maybe ten minutes before the schoolyard was completely emptied out. Marik watched Ryou carefully the whole time through. After a few minutes he had started to sway back and forth on the balls of his feet, his bag hanging from his arms. When it was just the two of them, Ryou finally turned around to face the school and spotted Marik leaning against it. 

Even across the distance between them Marik could see how Ryou’s brows fell into an immediate frown at the sight of him. Marik licked his lips and looked down. Yep. There was no love for him in those eyes. Should have just kept his mouth shut the day before. Maybe then they’d be in a bit of better terms. He could have tried to be that “strong and silent” type. But as things stood right now, all Marik had done was gotten beaten up and insulted Ryou’s friends. So yeah. 

He wondered who Ryou was waiting for anyway. Mutou was his best bet, or maybe another member of the crusaders. But it had always seemed like Ryou got along best with Mutou, similar interests or something. And knowing the pipsqueak, he would probably wait for the last possible second before leaving class. Teacher’s pet. Ryou might end up waiting for another half an hour before that tri-colored head of Mutou’s decided to come out. 

A clean pair of shoes appeared in Marik’s line of sight, stopping a few steps away from him. Marik was startled out of thoughts at the sight of them. He lifted his head to see Ryou standing there with his arms crossed and eyes narrowed into an annoyed glare. 

“Are you planning on making me wait much longer, Ishtar?”

Marik’s brain was sputtering and dying, trying to produce even one coherent word before Ryou would turn around and leave. Ryou was standing tall in front of him, looking at Marik like he was issuing some sort of a challenge. But his position was completely closed off, shoulders held high and rigid, tiny fists hidden under his arms. Honestly, glaring at Marik like that, all defiant and angry, he looked so damn beautiful that all Marik could do was stare.

“Well?” Ryou asked and his voice wavered a little. “Are you coming or not?”

Marik pushed himself off the wall so fast Ryou stumbled back in surprise. The sudden movement sent pain coursing through Marik’s body and he had to nearly double over to soothe his aching chest. 

“You…” he coughed feebly. “You were waiting for me?”

There was no way. It couldn’t be, right?

“Of course,” Ryou said, looking away. “Now come on, you and I both have studying to do for tomorrow.”

Was this heaven? Had Marik died and somehow by accident ended up in paradise? He couldn’t come up with any other explanation. 

“Well?”

“Y- yeah. I’m coming,” he said nervously. 

This was something new and Marik was having a hard time adapting. How was he supposed to act? Usually he just followed from behind, keeping a good distance between them. Now he was walking side by side with Ryou. And when Marik tried to slow down his pace to let him go on ahead, Ryou slowed down as well, keeping next to him. 

What was this strange alternative reality he had fallen into? How was he supposed to act now? Anxiety was worming in his stomach, making him feel rather uncomfortable. Not that he would have changed a thing even if he could. Oh no, this was way too good to give up. 

Neither of them said anything while they made their way to Ryou’s apartment. It was a rather awkward silence and Marik found himself following Ryou’s every movement from the corner of his eye. There was no doubt that he noticed Marik’s staring, Ryou was avoiding his eyes rather vehemently. 

As Ryou got to the number pad next to the door, he turned to look at Marik. But Marik had already turned around and was hobbling away. Had he looked back, he might have seen the timid guy opening his mouth as if to say something, but closing it soon after and shaking his head.


	12. Chapter 12

“Well… It’s progress. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m proud of you.”

Marik smiled a lopsided grin, leafing his biology notes. Somehow he had made it to the very last subject on his test week. Somehow he had survived, against all odds. And hearing a little praise for it felt really good. Marik leaned against the moth eaten couch in his mother’s living room and put an arm behind his head. 

“Are you still there?” Malik asked.

“Yeah, I’m still here,” he said. “I just got to redo the math test and I’ll be good to go.”

“So how’s the rib feeling?” his cousin asked. 

Changing his position Marik felt his side. Still hurt to touch, but the bruises had started to fade. Instead of dark purple and blue, they were now reddish yellow. It was a slow process and he knew it would take weeks for the rib to mend itself. In the meantime he’d have to just learn to live a little easier. Straining the injury would do little good. 

“Getting better,” he said. 

“And Ryou?”

Marik licked his lips and shifted. Yeah. Things were a little strained between him and Ryou at the moment. A new norm had been established between them where Marik would walk Ryou home every day. They would walk side by side without exchanging a single word. It was more awkward than before, but that was okay with him. Getting to be that close to him was worth every bit of lost comfort.

“He’s fine.”

Malik just laughed at the other end of the line. “Alright, alright, I’ll leave you be. Oh, and Ishizu told to say hi again. Rishid is coming over this weekend.”

Marik mumbled a noncommittal answer and grabbed his notes again. He just needed to pass this one last test and he’d be good. He could hardly believe that he had made it through an entire period without much of a hitch. Maybe he could really do this. Maybe, just maybe he could get through high school without dropping out. 

That’d be good. 

Putting down the phone he started going through the notes one last time. He could get through this. 

The next day went by in a haze. The last test went better than he expected, though that wasn’t much. Only time would tell if he actually got the passing grades. 

After school he was walking Ryou home again. There was an odd sort of tension strung over them and Marik wasn’t sure what that was all about. Ryou looked like he was going to say something, but whenever it looked like he was about to spit it out, he swallowed it back down hastily. Ryou had acted nervous the whole passing week, so Marik wasn’t that worried. Maybe he was just having a bad day and Marik’s presence was making it worse. That would have explained it. 

“How are you feeling?”

The question came so out of left field that Marik almost tripped on his own feet. He stuttered a little and righted himself, looking at Ryou next to him. He was looking at the ground instead of Marik. 

“…What?”

Ryou blushed slightly, the corners of his mouth turning down into a frown. 

“I just wanted to know how you were feeling,” he said nearly inaudibly. 

Marik was stunned. What was this now? He didn’t get it. He just shrugged and kept walking. 

“Fine, I guess,” he said. “Uh… You?”

Ryou frowned. Marik was pretty sure that meant that he had somehow given the wrong answer. 

“I’m feeling great, thank you,” he said coldly. “What I wanted to know is… if… uh… Your side. Your broken rib. Does it hurt?”

Now he was really lost. Why did Ryou want to know about his rib? He shrugged again, hands already deep in his pockets. 

“Is fine,” he mumbled. “Getting better I guess.”

So weird. This was the first time they’d spoken since meeting at the school gate few days ago. But Marik guessed he had been in a pretty bad state, so the nervous guy’s worry was reasonable. 

“And the cuts?” Ryou asked on. 

Marik lifted a hand to his temple where he had already removed the butterfly closures. 

“Don’t hurt anymore,” he said. 

“Good.”

Was he supposed to continue the conversation now? Marik was digging through his mind in a near panic, trying to come up with anything to talk about. Weather was a bit of a cliché, wasn’t it? They had to have something they could talk about, right?

His saving grace came into view as they rounded a corner and Ryou’s apartment building was there. Marik sighed and the hands in his pockets relaxed. He had come out of this with winning colors, right?

“Um… Would you like to come in with me?”

Aaaand suddenly the panic was back and his head was full of mush. Marik was pretty sure his face had suddenly turned bright red from the innocent little question. 

“The exam week is over,” Ryou said when Marik failed to make a sound. “I was wondering… maybe I could make us some tea and… and…” He seemed to be at a loss for words as well. 

Come on, say something, you big idiot. Anything was better than nothing right now!

“Sure,” was all he managed to mutter and even that was a fight in itself. 

The doorman waved happily as they passed him. 

“Good to see you feeling better, kid!” he shouted after them. Marik didn’t know what to say to that, so he just nodded dumbly. 

The elevator ride felt like it lasted ages. Wasn’t that big of a box, now that he was actually paying attention. He could take one small step and he’d be right in Ryou’s personal bubble. He had to lean against the back wall when the close proximity was getting too much for him. 

It was so silent between them. Marik’s knowledge about having friends was lacking at best. The people he had hung around with before weren’t as much friends as acquaintances who had just happened to spend time vandalizing the same cars rather than doing anything school related. But he was pretty sure friends should be able to talk to each other without both of them looking at the floor and muttering out half sentences. But then again, they weren’t friends, were they? Ryou might have called him one the last time he was around here, but that had been only to calm down the doorman. That didn’t mean jack shit. 

Back in Ryou’s apartment, the clean smell assaulted his nose like it wanted to drown him the moment he stepped in. 

Ryou disappeared out of sight immediately, almost running into the kitchen before they could exchange any more awkward words and Marik took that as a signal to meander into the living room. Nothing had changed since his last visit, everything was still spotless clean there. The pictures were still on the wall. This time Marik looked around a bookshelf behind the sofa. There were a bunch of books on history there, thick volumes set out in perfect lines, arranged by size, name and color it seemed. Everything was so neat he just wanted to push one book back to dent the perfect line. He tried to look around for something personal, a knack or a statuette or something, but there was nothing like that. Just books in clean lines. 

“The tea’s ready,” Ryou called softly. 

Marik whirled around, spotting a swish of white hair disappearing back into the kitchen. He left the shelf alone to follow after Ryou. 

The kitchen was airy and just as clean as the living room. No magazines on the tables or breadcrumbs and dust bunnies on the floor like at Marik’s mom’s house. The counters were so shiny he probably could have seen his own reflection if he’d cared to take a closer look. 

Ryou had set two identical white mugs on a small wooden table on the other side of the kitchen. Marik had spied a proper dining area with a table large enough to serve a party full of people, but instead Ryou was sitting at a small round table, waiting for him to join in. 

Marik had never been a big fan of tea. Never liked the taste to be honest. He didn’t speak up though as he sat down across from his silent company. He grabbed the mug, pulling at the string connected to a bag floating in the water. Ryou was sipping his drink with heavy lidded eyes, lips pursed over the cup delicately. Marik forgot about his drink, half way to his lips, when he looked at Bakura Ryou savoring his tea. 

He shook his head and took a large gulp. Big mistake. The tea was hot and it burned his mouth when he quickly swallowed it down. Marik set down the cup to keep from making other mistakes like that. 

They spent some time like that, Ryou sipping his drink carefully, Marik looking around to pretend like he wasn’t following the boy’s every movement with reverence. 

“I saw you on that day, you know,” Ryou said. 

Marik hadn’t expected him to open up this soon. He tapped his fingers against the table and spied the lamp over them. Surprisingly cheap looking for a fancy house like this. 

“What day?” he asked. He really didn’t know what he was talking about. 

“The day when… you know,” Ryou waved at his general direction. “When you got beaten up. I saw you leaving school.”

Oh. Marik didn’t say anything, inspecting the lamp instead. It looked old. 

“Why did you leave in such a hurry?” Ryou asked. 

Marik looked down. He didn’t want to answer Ryou’s question. It felt like such a personal thing, his insecurities. His mouth tasted stale and mind felt sluggish. His silence didn’t seem to be enough to deter Ryou, though. 

“You just ran past me that day. The teacher called after you, but you just… left. What was all that about?” 

Ryou was waiting for him to continue, to explain his strange behavior. He was leaning back against his chair, mug snuggly in his hands. The table was really a bit small, their legs almost touched underneath. Almost. Marik licked his teeth and swallowed. 

“It’s nothing,” he said after a heavy silence. “It’s just… school. You know. Had my math exam. Nothing important. I’ve dealt with it already.”

He could feel Ryou’s sharp stare as he took in Marik’s hunched form. 

“Didn’t look unimportant to me,” he said and took a sip. Then, after a short pause: “I didn’t know you cared about your test score.”

“Didn’t use to,” he said trying to shrug it off as a little thing. “Trying to change now. Not easy.”

Ryou set the cup down carefully and started to twist his fingers again. It was a nervous habit he didn’t seem to pay much attention to. Some of the angles he was flexing his fingers looked like they just might snap his joints. 

“You need a tutor,” he said simply. 

Marik didn’t mean the laugh to come out as derisive as it did, but once it had been let out he couldn’t pull it back in. He bit his tongue and shrugged again. “Yeah, that’s what they keep telling me. But who’s going to want to sit down with me for a few hours to explain something my dumb head just doesn’t get? Everyone hates me, so unless a teacher decides to punish some sorry sod and assign me a tutor, I’m going to be alone in this shit.”

Ryou said nothing to that, just picked up his mug again and took a dainty sip. Marik was half expecting his pinky finger to jump out like that of a proper English lady’s. 

“Not to be rude or anything… really appreciate the invitation, but… why am I here?”

Marik felt like he was biting the hand that pet him by asking that, but the question needed to be asked. He just wanted to know what was expected of him. They weren’t friends, no matter how hard he might have wanted that. Even friendzone was better than this weird area they were in now where he pined and Ryou outright hated him. But then again, you didn’t invite the person who you hated for a cup of tea, did you? Or was there some sort of a complicated social requirement to get cozy with your former bullies he hadn’t heard of?

Ryou for his part had gone silent again, his now empty cup held tightly in his fingers. His hold was a bit tighter than it needed to be, Marik noticed. His fingers were pale with the strain he was putting on the mug. 

“I…” he started slowly. “I felt like it was the least I could do after you… after what happened to you.”

His mouth tasted stale as he felt small tendrils of anger slithering into his head, filling his mind with discomfort. He felt betrayed somehow. Ryou had only invited him up here because he felt like he owed it to Marik. Even though Marik had already been in debt to him. There was nothing more to it and the idea made Marik’s insides heat up and his head hurt. He sneered and pushed back from the table. 

“Well, thanks for it,” he said, sounding like a thankless punk. “But I don’t need you pretending to care about my life just because you feel like you have to.”

“Pretending?” Ryou said sounding hurt. “I was… I was simply trying to… to get along.”

He sounded sincere enough to quell Marik’s anger towards him and direct it at himself instead. Marik ground his teeth together. 

“Oh.”

Stupid. He was such an ungrateful idiot. Ryou was putting an effort and all he could do was doubt him? His life was finally offering Marik something good and all he could do was bark like a mad dog, biting the hand that tried to pet him. His fingers curled into fists under the table. Shouldn’t have gotten mad at Ryou. Never again at Ryou. Especially over little things. Marik closed his eyes and drew a breath through his nose. 

“Sorry,” he said shakily, sounding just about as unhappy as he felt. “Still having some trouble with the anger. You didn’t mean it as an insult. Sorry.”

Ryou just nodded stiffly. He swallowed and Marik watched with fascination as his throat worked up and down. It was better to direct his attention to somewhere else in hopes of letting his emotions calm a little. 

“You have changed,” Ryou said softly. “It shows. And I thought that maybe I could… I could show my appreciation somehow. I… couldn’t think of anything else.”

“No, no, this is… this is great,” Marik said unconvincingly. 

Ryou simply nodded and rose up from the table. He carried the empty mug to the kitchen sink and started washing it immediately. After rinsing and drying it he set it into a cupboard with several similar mugs and wiped the counter clean from droplets. Weird. From where Marik was sitting, he could see a dishwasher. Why not use that instead?

Marik looked at his cup, still almost full. It’d probably be really rude not to finish it, he thought. The least he could do is down the whole thing. Not like he was a standard quest anyway. He grabbed the cup, relieved to find that the contents had cooled down a bit. He drank it empty in a few big gulps and offered it to his gracious host. 

Ryou grabbed it without a word and repeated the same motions with it, cleaning it carefully before hiding it away and wiping out all evidence that there had ever been a dirty cup in the house. 

It almost felt like he was too ashamed to admit that he’d had Marik over for a visit. Marik bit his tongue. It was just his lousy self-confidence talking, he knew he shouldn’t read too much into it. Maybe Ryou just was an extremely clean person. That could’ve explained it. 

Again with the silence. This time it really seemed like it was his turn to break it. Ryou was leaning over the sink, face hidden from view and Marik was sitting uncomfortably by the table. He drew a long breath, trying to convince himself that leaving now was the best thing he could do at the moment. 

“Thanks for the tea,” he said, rising up from the table. 

Ryou startled at the sound of his voice and turned around to look at him. He looked up at Marik with confusion when he started walking out of the kitchen. Marik could only barely hear his soft steps behind him as Ryou followed him to the door. 

“What are you doing?” he asked nervously. 

Deciding to go with the truth Marik sighed and rubbed his neck “I’m just going to do something stupid again if I stay any longer. Don’t want to ruin this.”

Ryou didn’t seem to understand what he was saying, tilting his head and frowning at him. 

Marik smirked humorlessly. 

“We never get along,” he said a bit bitterly. “And here we were, having a civil conversation. It was nice. But I don’t want to ruin it, say something stupid.”

“So you’re just going to leave?” He was wringing his fingers again.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

Nodding Marik turned around. His hand was already on the door handle when Ryou spoke up again. 

“Um… Ishtar?”

His timid voice had a power to freeze Marik on his spot, like his last name was some sort of spell Ryou could put on him whenever he wanted. Marik turned slowly so he could see him from the corner of his eye. Ryou was standing a bit to the side, hunched as small as he could be. His shoulders were almost at his ears. 

“Yeah?” he dared to ask. 

“A- about that tutor thing,” Ryou said quietly. “If you… If you want to, I could tutor you.”

Marik stood glued to the spot, unable to process his thoughts properly. Somehow that last statement was looping in his head over and over again, gaining a rosier tint to it every time it played over. His brain decided to throw in the towel and leave him hanging in the terribly tidy Bakura residence. What he needed to say was that it was a terrible idea and that he would end up embarrassing himself somehow in Ryou’s company and that he didn’t want that. Marik could have also told him yes, hell yes, he would love that more than anything. If Ryou wanted him to turn into a studious little bookworm, he would do just that. But the only thing he could get out of his dry mouth was a strangled mumble with no detectable words to speak of. 

A dismayed flush rose to Ryou’s cheeks and he started to wave his hands.

“I… Never mind, it’s nothing, I didn’t really think – “

“Yes,” he said quickly before the boy could take back his offer. “Yeah, I… Yes.”

Ryou stopped waving and looked at him. He looked a little frightened. 

“Really?”

Marik cleared his throat and forced his eyes to stare at the floor beneath his feet. “Yeah, I could really use your… I mean I would appreciate your help. Really.”

Wow. That had almost sounded like a real sentence. His cheeks were burning and he didn’t have the guts to look up and see what Ryou was doing. 

“Oh. Well… Good. I will meet you at school library tomorrow after school.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

He needed to leave now. He was in the clear, he needed to leave before he could wreck it somehow. Marik turned around and flung the door open, limping out as fast as he could. 

And if he smiled the whole elevator ride down, well… no one would know.


	13. Chapter 13

It had to be the slowest day Marik had ever lived. Just waiting for the first class to start felt like it took ages. Maybe it was just his complete lack of sleep talking. He hadn’t slept a wink, imagining all the horrible ways he could somehow ruin this. It was just studying together, right? It wouldn’t be that bad, right? Just studying. With Bakura freaking Ryou. Not a biggie, _right?_

But the more he stared at the clock on the wall, willing the second hand to move faster, the slower the time seemed to crawl. This was torture. He was being torn to pieces from inside out. On one hand he couldn’t wait until the end of the day to spend some more time with the boy he was crushing so hard on, on the other, _he was going to spend some more time with the boy he was crushing on._ There were a million and one ways he could make this crash and burn, Ryou would see how stupid he actually was and would no doubt hate him even more for it. And Marik was going to say something stupid, get angry over nothing and rush out of there, wasn’t he? 

There was no way he could come out of this winning, was there? The only reasonable thing he could do was slip out of school before the end of the day and slink home to wallow in self-pity. 

Why was the clock moving so slow?!

It was pure psychological torture and Marik was pretty sure it was illegal. Anxiety was starting to fill him up again, welling up and drowning all reason. And when Marik go anxious, he got angry. He was one step away from dashing out of school when he spotted Ryou chatting up with the Friendship Gang. 

And bam! There was the jealousy again. He had to force his legs to stand still while he watched them from afar. Ryou looked relaxed as the others talked. Mutou was in the forefront again, because of course he was, smiling way too happily. 

Stupid. It was stupid to feel jealous because of what he was seeing. Ryou was getting along with his friends again. Marik should have felt happy for the guy. He should have been congratulating him and leaving them be. Instead he was grinding his teeth together like he was planning on pulverizing them and seething where he stood. 

Suddenly Ryou turned around and spotted him like he’d heard what Marik was thinking. Marik felt like a deer caught in headlights, unable to move from his spot even though doom was approaching 80 miles per hour. 

The crusaders followed Ryou’s look and spotted him as well. Katsuya and Hiroto shot disapproving looks his way and Mazaki crossed her arms. Oh yes, there definitely was unbound love there between the group and him. Marik sneered at them, finding his ability to move again. He turned his back on them, sulking away. 

He wasn’t expecting Ryou to catch up with him, though. 

This was a break from the norm. They never acknowledged each other’s presence at school. Or, well, to be more accurate, Ryou had so far avoided him vehemently on school grounds. But seeing him walking next to Marik, hugging his books against his chest, was incredibly endearing. Marik had to look away when his cheeks started to heat up. 

He grunted a greeting, the most eloquent thing he could get out of his mouth at the moment. 

“Are you still free to see me after school?” Ryou asked perfectly politely. 

Marik mumbled an incoherent answer. The other boy turned to look at him with a guarded look. Marik cleared his throat. 

“Y- yeah,” he said. “Sure. Not like I have anything better to do.”

“Good,” Ryou said simply.

Wow. This was freaky. 

It almost felt like he was being escorted to his next class. Maybe Ryou was intending it to be a payback for all the times Marik had followed him around but the jokes were on him: Marik was in cloud nine right now. His stomach was fluttering like someone had released a swarm of butterflies there and now they were hitting against his insides with their wings in their panicked attempts to find a way out before his stomach acids killed them dead. And he was pretty sure he was smiling, even though he couldn’t really feel his face for the heat. 

“My friends seem to have grown quite concerned with me spending more time with you.”

Marik frowned, dropping down a level from his happy haze. He wasn’t really surprised.

“This is the first time we’ve spoken in quite some time and all they seem to be able to do is whine and tell how worried they are for my safety.”

This time Marik actually chuckled. He tried to hide it away with a cough, but it didn’t fool Ryou. 

“You find this funny?” he asked. 

“No, no… Well, actually yes. I mean… they worry now? Because I’m here? I mean, I guess it makes sense, I was the worst back then, but shouldn’t they have worried about you before, you know… when you were getting beaten?”

Ryou’s mouth twisted into a frown, but he didn’t deny it. 

“So…” Marik said slowly. “Is that why you’re walking me to my next class?”

Ryou looked at him and smiled a little. It was a small smile, just a simple lift of the corners of his mouth, but unlike the smiles Marik had seen him give to the Friendship Gang, this one reached his eyes.

It felt pretty good. Marik turned his face away so Ryou wouldn’t see his blush. 

“They think they can tell me what to do and who to do it with. I believe they no longer have any right to do so and they needed to be reminded of that.” He gave a careful look at Marik. “I hope that is okay with you.”

Marik grinned. “I ain’t complaining.”

They said good-bye after Ryou had walked Marik to his literature class. Marik wasn’t complaining, not at all. At least he hadn’t run out of school again. 

He could do this. 

After that, the day trudged on slowly, the hours stretching to the extremes. It felt like eons passed between the classes until the final bell rang and Marik was free. 

He hadn’t been to the school library since the first day of school in his first year. It was a small and somewhat cramped space with dusty books and stuffy air. There was no room to move, barely any air to breathe. Claustrophobic. Not a place he would normally spend time in. 

Some students sent him questioning looks, unsure what someone like him would be looking for in a place like this, but if they had a problem with it, at least they didn’t raise their voices. Marik tried not to pay any attention to them when he searched the library. He couldn’t find Ryou anywhere, so he just chose a table and waited. 

He didn’t have to wait for a long time. Bakura Ryou came in, filled with determination. He walked to Marik with purpose, head held high and shoulders squared. It was almost like this was a completely new person Marik had never met before. 

Ryou sat down with him and started spreading his textbooks and notes around them. Marik watched with interest as more and more material was produced from his bag like it was a bottomless pit filled to the brim with school-related stuff. How he could fit all of that into his bag was a mystery. 

Marik knew Ryou had tutored other students before. He had been one of the school’s top students before, excelling in almost everything he put his mind into. Marik pulled out his own modest equipment, a bit ashamed to show his ratty notes that had suffered the fate of being stuffed into his bag. But Ryou didn’t even look twice at the coffee stains at the bottom of the papers when he gave a quick glance-over on Marik’s writing. He hummed softly, running his finger over the chicken scratches before handing his own notes to Marik. 

“Let’s go through these together,” he said, all calm and collected. So professional. 

In the end it turned out that Marik’s fears had been for nothing. As awkward as it could have been, studying with Ryou was surprisingly easygoing. The more bookish teen really had a knack for explaining things. And he could make the boring subjects sound way more interesting than Marik thought possible. Or maybe it was just the fact that Marik was hanging onto his every word like he was drowning. 

Could be either or, really. 

He was also more relaxed than he’d ever been in Marik’s presence. He guessed it was the studying buffering the usual effects of their interactions. An hour and a half went by fast. Marik didn’t even realize they had been there that long before he glanced at the clock. Ryou was talking about his physics homework, trying to explain why a certain formula worked the way it did. Marik shook his head, marveling how the time had just flown by. He’d finished his homework with less cursing than in months. They started packing their belongings. 

“Thanks for this,” he said. “It really helped a lot.” It had. Marik had never felt this confident about physics. 

“It was nothing,” Ryou said dismissively and waved his hand. “It actually helps me as well, so I could say I’m using you to better my learning.”

Well, if that was the case, Marik didn’t mind getting used by him. He had to bite his tongue not to blurt out that embarrassing little thought. 

“I suggest we make this into a weekly meeting,” Ryou said while packing his bag and somehow magically hiding away all of his books and notebooks like they hadn’t been there in the first place. Marik had to wonder how heavy his book bag actually was. Looked light, but it must have been a trick. 

“That’d be nice,” he said silently. 

Something in his tone made Ryou look up at him in question. 

“You think you are going to ruin it somehow?” he asked.

Marik shrugged. Sooner or later he would. It wasn’t a question of if, it was a question of when. 

“That is ridiculous,” Ryou accused. “You can’t avoid confrontation just because you think there might be a chance that it doesn’t go well.”

He sounded almost like Ishizu when he said it like that. Marik smiled humorlessly. 

“Didn’t think you were going to be this forgiving,” he said. “Helping me with my homework and all that. After what I did to you, I don’t think I deserve this.”

Ryou frowned, but he didn’t deny it either. He pulled his bag on the table and tapped it with his fingers. 

“I would guess that the teachers are keeping a close eye on you now that you are back. I don’t think they are going to let you act violent on school grounds.”

Marik chuckled. “Yeah. Right, the teachers. Because they were such a big help before.”

The boy hummed in agreement. 

“Though you’re right,” Marik said with a shrug. “They’re watching me closely. Might call the cops _before_ I start raging like a lunatic. I just need to act super nice and they will stay off my case. But that don’t mean you should just help me like this. It don’t make any sense.”

Ryou looked down at his bag, fingers curling around its handle. He sighed tiredly. 

“I don’t think you are going to go back to the person you were before,” he said. “The person you were before wouldn’t… wouldn’t have gone through so much trouble just to help me.”

So that was what this was about? He was getting help for help. Ryou felt like he owed Marik something for the violence. Marik scoffed. 

“I get into fights,” he said. “That’s just how it goes. Makes me feel great. Would’ve gotten into one sooner or later anyway. But it’s not like I’m going to turn down this opportunity.”

“Opportunity?” Ryou asked. 

What he should have said was an opportunity to learn, to get better grades and all that shit. But Ryou was looking at him, looking him in the eye and Marik just blurted out the truth. 

“I like hanging out with you.”

Shit. There were no take-backs. He had said it and he couldn’t get it back now. He bit down on his tongue in hopes of preventing a word vomit that was already forming on his tongue ready to try and cover for his blunder. 

Ryou for his part looked surprised, eyes large and rounded. He said nothing, just stared at Marik with the slightest, smallest dusting of pink on his cheeks. Marik couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment or something else, though. Ryo’s shoulders hiked up a notch, his relaxed pose shifting into something more high strung. 

Well… great. Marik had known he would ruin this somehow and now he had. They had been getting along just fine, but now it was all awkward between them again. Won-der-ful. Good job souring the mood, Marik berated himself. 

Clearing his throat Ryou got up from his seat. 

“Let’s… Let’s just go, alright?” he said, voice a touch higher than normally. 

It hadn’t been that bad, had it? Marik was going through the things he had said when they were making their way to Ryou’s home. He had just said that he liked spending time with him. It wasn’t a love confession or anything. Neither of them should feel embarrassed over it. It was completely reasonable!

Justifying it in his mind didn’t make the situation any less awkward, though, and the two of them made their way Ryou’s apartment building without another incident. 

Marik wasn’t invited for tea this time.


	14. Chapter 14

Weekends generally were a trying time for Marik. Schooldays were fine since he usually ended up spending the evenings trying to sort through his homework, but weekends failed him on this regard. There was only so much schoolwork he could do before his head started hurting and anxiety took over. The simple act of sitting still for longer than a few minutes became a chore in itself. 

Marik had taken it upon himself to spend as little time at home as possible on those days. Staying cooped up there was only going to make him feel worse, bringing back lousy memories and making him jittery. His mom was usually there as well, making it that much worse. So he went out. He would have probably gone to a gym if he had any money to spare, but since that wasn’t a possibility, he trained on his own. There was a track meant for joggers not far from his mother’s house. He’d go there, run a few laps, walk around, generally just kill time. Anything to get rid of the nervous energy in his body. Physical strain helped to calm down his nerves when he was piling up with stress and it was harder to get angry the same way when he was exhausted. 

After his Saturday run Marik was making his way back home, taking as long way back as possible, trying to spend as much time outdoors as he could before being forced inside again. His mother was sleeping after a long week of work and the silence of the small apartment could get crushing sometimes. It was different when he was alone, the silence felt peaceful then. But when the quiet was caused by two people not talking to each other, it was different. Marik had been sweating quite admirably on the track and now he was cooling off, hood over his head pulling his hair down and hands deep in his pockets. He could really use some music during his runs. Giving his thoughts too much room to roam scared him sometimes, the dark thoughts trying to pull him back in. But the only phone he got was an old one, cheap and half dead and wouldn’t hold onto any music. And Marik couldn’t exactly ask for his mom to buy him an mp3 player, when it was enough of a miracle that she let him come back to live under her roof in the first place. 

Maybe he should consider getting a job for the weekends. Could pass the time nicely and he’d get some money as well. Marik was sure his mother would appreciate it too. 

Marik kept walking down the street, deep in thought. He didn’t hear when someone called his name and didn’t realize he was being followed until a munchkin with way too over the top hair jumped into his way, waving his arms in large circles. 

O-kay. Marik stopped and looked down at the bright and round face of Yugi Mutou. His body gave an automatic response, his face twisting into a scowl.

“What do you want?” he asked rudely. 

Mutou wasn’t alone. He rarely was, with his wide variety of friends and all that. This time he was accompanied by Mazaki Anzu, a girl with a mean glare and a sharp tongue. Marik squared his shoulders, ready for whatever they were about to put him through. If it was a fight they wanted, then that was exactly what he was going to give them. He lifted the corner of his mouth to a sneer. 

“We saw you walking by and I thought that this could be a perfect moment to talk. We never have time to chat in school.”

No time, huh? That was not how Marik saw it. More like the Friendship Gang chose wisely to steer clear from his way. It looked like Mutou wasn’t about to let that bother him though. Or maybe it had been his friends keeping him back. Smart guys. Apparently Mazaki didn’t have it in her to hold the shorty back when he wanted something. 

Whatever the reason, Marik didn’t want to be in this situation. He knew his limits, knew that he didn’t want to get angry because of these people and the best way to deal with this was to avoid it altogether. Marik sidestepped the munchkin and continued walking. 

“Come on, Yugi,” Mazaki said softly. “He’s not worth it. And besides, if Ryou wants to spend time with him, it’s his choice.”

“Hold on, Anzu. I just need to talk to him for a minute.”

But Marik didn’t want to talk to them. He quickened his pace, taking long strides to gain some distance between him and the friendship duo. 

His longer limbs had nothing on Mutou’s determination, though. The pipsqueak caught up to him in no time, jogging next to him. 

“I just wanted to talk to you,” he said a bit breathlessly, pumping his short feet to keep up with Marik. 

“Yeah, I heard,” Marik answered tonelessly. Anger was already simmering beneath the surface, coaxing him to just grab the munchkin by the shirt and throw him aside. He clenched his fists and kept walking, focusing on his strides and breathing instead of the tiny annoyance next to him. 

“Please, just stop for a moment, Marik!” Mutou panted. “We are really concerned about Ryou and the two of you have been spending more time together lately. We are just worried!”

He should have kept on walking. Mutou was growing tired and would have probably given up sooner or later. Marik should have just kept on going until he reached his mother’s rented flat and slammed the door on Mutou’s face if he would follow him home like a lost puppy. But his stupid feet stopped their fast pace, gluing him to the ground. Marik knew it was stupid, knew he needed to get going before he would turn around and do something violent. But there he was, standing in place, staring down at Mutou with a sneer. 

“Thank you, Marik,” the boy said breathing deeply. He leaned forward putting his hands over his knees and panted heavily. He hadn’t changed at all during his absence, Marik noted. Still the same un-athletic gamer. “For… for a moment I thought you were just going to keep on walking!”

Marik had to bite hard onto his tongue to keep from lashing out. Getting angry because of Mutou would be stupid. 

Mazaki caught up to them, eyeing Marik uneasily. He gave her an ugly scowl. The girl frowned and put her hands on her hips. She was getting into her “friendship-mode”. It was a bad place to be, truly. 

“What do you want?” he repeated.

“Well I… Maybe we could go somewhere nicer? My grandpa’s game shop is close by, we could talk there – “

“We talk now or we don’t talk at all,” Marik said. 

Mutou looked crestfallen and Mazaki put her hand on his shoulder. Somehow this seemed to bring him up again. Probably the magical power of friendship saving the day once again. Marik shook his head in irritation. 

“It’s about Ryou,” Mutou said uncertainly. 

Of course. Of course it was. Marik was grinding his teeth. 

“I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but we… we’re really worried. I mean, Ryou just kind of stopped hanging out with us maybe half a year ago and we’ve been worried sick since. And then you just show up out of the blue and suddenly you two seem to be on speaking terms even though… even…” He made vague hand gestures without looking Marik in the eye. “Anzu says that she saw the two of you studying together the other day.”

Mazaki nodded earnestly. 

“So of course we grew even more worried, you know, with the history you two share. But Ryou doesn’t want to talk about it! So I was wondering if you could tell us what’s going on?”

This was just too much. Marik’s lips cracked into a grin that made Mazaki visibly tighten her hold on Mutou’s shoulder. A little laugh escaped his lips. They were worried now? They were worried because he was here, because Marik Ishtar had returned to school when their little friend had been getting into trouble far worse when he was gone. It was hilarious, it was maddening and it was confusing the hell out of him and all he could do was cackle like a madman. 

“This isn’t funny!” Mazaki shouted. “Take this seriously, Ishtar! Ryou’s been through enough because of you and if you’re bullying him into helping you – “

“Shut up!” he shouted, cutting her rant before it could get enough wind to continue the whole day. He knew he was tipping overboard, his heart was beating in his ears, drowning out all reason with its drumming, but he just couldn’t contain it. “You can whine all you want, but you’ve never had the balls to come between me and Ryou. How’s that for friendship, huh bitch?”

Mazaki’s eyes narrowed into slits and she turned to look at Mutou with a meaningful glare. The shorter boy’s shoulders dropped in defeat. 

“You’re right,” he said. “We should’ve done something sooner. When you were cornering him, we should have done something and – “

“But you didn’t!” Marik barked. “If you’re such good friends, you should have come between me and Ryou, but you kept back and played your shitty little games!”

“I know!” Mutou cried, actual tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “I know, okay? And we’re trying to fix what we screwed back then, but Ryou’s not letting us in anymore. He closed up completely after all that… all that…”

Mazaki looked away then, eyes shut. She looked like she was about to cry as well and it made some dark part of Marik far too happy. Seeing these two like this was far too satisfying. He couldn’t kill the terrifying smile stretching his lips to their extreme. 

“You fucked up,” he laughed. “You screwed up big time. Always going on about friendship and when one of you needed you the most, you crawled back crying like little babies. You just didn’t want live what Ryou was going through!”

Mutou looked absolutely dejected. Mazaki moved past him to stand between them, jabbing her finger at his chest. 

“And are you the best person to lecture us about that, huh?” she asked. “Ryou was absolutely terrified when you came back. And for a good reason! I don’t care if Ryou wants our help or not, if you’re going to hurt him, we’re going to make you pay. It might be a year too late, but we’re going to fix this somehow!”

That actually made Marik stop. His smile died down a little, losing some of its crazy. He took a step back to look at the situation. 

Mutou was sniffling, trying to hide his crying behind his sleeve and Mazaki looked like a ravenous mama bear out to protect her cubs. But it was her words that actually caught his interest. Her reasoning behind this sounded awfully familiar. 

This was pointless. He needed to calm down. He could hear the loud thrumming of his heart in his ears now, the pointless anger roaring in his gut. He took another few steps back. He had known this would happen and still stayed. This wasn’t progress, this was going back to his old ways. Just as Ryou had said he wouldn’t do. 

Marik had to look away. The shame filling his entire body was almost too much. What would Malik say if he saw him like this? His cousin would no doubt chew him alive. 

“It’s not me you should be worried about,” he said quietly, voice wavering just a little. “I’m just trying to help him.”

“Oh really?” Mazaki asked, pointing her accusing finger at him. “I’m sorry, but that’s a little hard to believe.”

“It’s not my place to say and I don’t even know that much about it,” he said gruffly. “Don’t think Ryou wants me spreading it around.”

“But we’re his friends!” Mutou spoke up, coming out behind Mazaki’s back. His eyes were incredibly shiny and large, a frightening sight to behold. There was no way that should’ve been possible for a human, Marik thought as he looked at Mutou’s larger-than-life eyes. There was no way anyone could make their eyes that large. 

“Really?” he asked harshly. “Friends should know about these things, right? I know more about his problems than you and I’ve been back for like few months.”

“And what?” Mazaki asked crossing her arms. “Are you saying you are Ryou’s friend?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. He licked his teeth, sweaty palms finding their way back to his pockets where they belonged. He nodded. 

“Yeah,” Marik said. “I am.”

He could see it the moment the words left his mouth. The thought didn’t sit well with the two of them. But then again, after his little breakdown he couldn’t really blame them. He was showing them his worst side, it was only fair that they thought the worst of him by definition. 

Time to try and soothe the situation. How was he supposed to grow as a person if he couldn’t even get through talking to the Friendship Gang? He breathed in a long breath and then blew it all out at once. He tried to imagine his anger leaving his body with that loud exhale of air, just like Ishizu had told him to do and it helped, even if only a little.

“Look, this isn’t going to help,” he said slowly, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at their stupid judgmental faces when he spoke. “I know you probably won’t take my word for it, but I’m trying to change and I’m not going to hurt Ryou. I’ve been helping him with the… situation he’s in right now and he’s asked me to _specifically_ not talk about it with you. But I’m not going to hurt him and I’m not going to go back to my old ways. I’m really trying.”

Neither of them said anything and Marik didn’t dare to look at them to see what they were thinking. He just pressed on before his confidence would run dry. 

“I’m getting better, I really am, but you people butting into my business is not doing Ryou any favors. You won’t trust me, that’s fine. But you should trust Ryou’s judgment. It’s his decision in the end.”

Having said his piece, Marik looked uo, wary for what would happen next. 

The two of them were just looking at him. Mazaki had her arms crossed, brows set into a deep frown. It was clear what her stance on this was. Mutou was a bit harder to read, thought. The munchkin was just staring up at him, remnants of tears glimmering in his eyes. 

Forced to stay under his stare made Marik uncomfortable again and that threatened to kick in his defense mechanisms. Biting onto his tongue until he tasted blood helped a little, but he couldn’t stay here much longer. 

After what felt like forever, Mutou turned to look at Mazaki and they shared some sort of a wordless debate before turning to look at him again. 

“Alright,” Mutou said slowly. “You’ve got a point. If Ryou doesn’t want to talk about it, it’s his right. But he’s still out friend, even if he doesn’t want to be and we want all the best for him. And if that means hanging out with his former bully, then I guess there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Mazaki uncrossed her arms but put them on her hips which was, some might argue, even more frightening pose. 

“We’re going to keep our eyes on you, though,” she said sternly. “And if we spy even a glimpse of relapse, your ass is grass.”

Wonderful. Just great. Now he’d have to keep an eye both on the teachers and the Friendship Gang. Marik ground his teeth together. How had his life become this?

“Okay!” Mutou said cheerfully, all signs of ill will or hurt feelings disappearing like they’d never been there to begin with. The pipsqueak flashed him with a tooth-rotting smile. “It was nice to have a chat with you, Marik!” he said. “Hope to see you again at school!”

He turned around and started walking back the same way he had come from, Mazaki following close behind and all Marik could think was: what the hell just happened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to take another short break to polish the future chapters. Shouldn't take too long.


	15. Chapter 15

Sunday evenings were the worst in Marik’s opinion, straining his self-restraint to its thinnest. His mother was watching TV in the living room, laugh tracks of old sitcoms carrying over to the one bedroom they shared. Marik was trying to get some reading done, to dull out his brain before going to sleep, but he found the continuous sound driving him up the wall. 

He couldn’t just go and tell the woman to turn the TV off, this was her house and it was her rules. And he knew that if he did go there, raised his voice and told her to stop making so much noise, she would do exactly that, shut the TV off and look at him with accusing eyes, expecting to see her husband behind his. 

Malik and Marik were cousins, their fathers had been brothers and it showed. Where Malik’s father had grown to be a religious nutcase, Marik’s had ran away from Egypt and taken the bottle. And sometimes it looked like the apple hadn’t fallen that far from the tree. 

Marik buried his face in his hands, trying to will the noise to go away, trying to avoid the pressure surrounding the house. It was getting worse and worse and he knew he couldn’t just go there and talk to his mother. That wasn’t how it worked. 

He drew out his pillow and tried to use it to block out the sound. All he could hear was the obnoxious laughing coming from the living room. His mother wasn’t laughing with the audience, though, she rarely made a sound when Marik was around. 

It was growing louder and louder in his ears, not even the pillow could block it. Marik lay still on his bed, his whole body taut like it was preparing to spring out. Dread was filling his gut again and he didn’t know why. He didn’t understand why, but his whole body was starting to tremble and it felt like he was trapped. 

There was no way he could stay here. He needed to get moving or the nervous energy building in him would burst out with destructive power. Marik jumped out of his bed and grabbed his shoes and jacket. He nearly ran out of the house, not even looking to see if his mother would say anything about it. 

He just needed to get out of there. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

The curse repeated like a mantra in his mind as he marched down the street, no specific destination in mind. The sun had set hours ago and the streets were quiet. Streetlights were shining on the pavement, moths dancing around the pillars of light. It was cold out there and that helped a little. 

Marik didn’t think where he was going but he wasn’t capable of complicated thought at the moment anyway, so he let his feet take him wherever they wanted to take him. Breathe in, breathe out. Let the anger go. He needed to stay in motion, or it would all catch up with him. 

This was pitiful. Stupid really. He was so afraid to break the small peace he had managed to build around him that he didn’t even dare to speak to his own mother. How about that? And because of that he was now walking outside, anxious and caged, when he should have been preparing for sleep. But he couldn’t go back there, not until his mother would have gone to sleep and he could crash on the couch instead of the small and cramped room they shared in his mother’s small two-room rental. 

Marik clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to relieve some of the tension in his body. It was working, at least on some level. The further he got away from the house, the better. 

It took him a long time to calm down enough to realize where he was going. The realization startled him when Bakura Ryou’s apartment building came into view. He hadn’t even thought about it before he found himself there. 

Pathetic. So damn pathetic. What did he think he was going to get from here? Did his dumb body think if he went to knock on Ryou’s door, the boy would let him in? Allow Marik to his house with open arms? Hah! Yeah. That’d be the day. But in reality Marik couldn’t even get into the building since the door was locked by a number code and he was pretty sure it had been changed after he had gotten in that one time over a year ago. 

What was he even doing in here?

Marik walked to the pretty little yard opening around the building. There was a spot for smokers with proper benches and he sat down there. Now that he had used up the panic-driven energy in his body, he felt tired. He leaned back on the bench and looked up. Somewhere on the sixth floor Bakura Ryou was probably already fast asleep. 

What would he do if he saw Marik out here? This was considered stalking, right? Marik sighed. Wouldn’t that be embarrassing? There was no way he could explain it away without losing face.

Despite that, Marik ended up sitting there for over half an hour before leaving. 

Next day he was damn tired. He knew he had bags under his eyes, he had seen them in the mirror back at home and there was nothing he could do about them. It wasn’t like anyone was going to look anyway. Staying awake during the classes was proving to be a hard challenge but one that he managed to beat with simply biting into his cheek. 

It was real awful day, made only worse by the fact that he had managed to gain the attention of the Friendship Gang and he had one of them following him around every break, trying to subtly keep an eye on him. After Katsuya got a bit too close and Marik snarled at his face, they learned to keep their distance, but they were still there, always in the line of his vision and it was doing little to help him through. 

His one ray of light came not so surprisingly in the form of Ryou. It was their lunch break and Ryou looked to be in the mood to break every unspoken rule they had set between them. Marik had been sitting by himself, minding his own business when Ryou set his tray down next to his, sitting next to Marik like it was a completely normal thing to do. Well, almost. Ryou was blushing slightly, keeping a good distance between the two of them even if sitting next to each other. 

Marik was fifty-fifty certain that this was some sort of sleep-deprived hallucination taunting him, but he was absolutely one hundred percent okay with that. 

“Hi,” he said tiredly. 

“Hello,” Ryou said with a small smile. 

Yep. One hundred percent. 

“How was your weekend?” Ryou asked conversationally. 

Marik sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Just great,” he muttered. 

Ryou tilted his head, a curious expression visiting his face. He put down his lunch, swiping his fingers on a napkin. “What happened?” he asked, sounding almost worried. Maybe he was. Maybe it was _the power of friendship_ at work here or whatever. Marik was too tired to care. 

“Nothing,” he said tonelessly. 

He wasn’t convincing the guy. Not in the slightest. From the corner of his eye he could see Ryou frowning a bit, but he didn’t press on. 

Now Marik felt like shit. Ryou was showing worry, trying to have a conversation here and all he was doing was dicking around and dodging the questions. Marik sighed again, more dejectedly this time. He put his hands down on the table and leaned heavily on them. 

“Just can’t sleep that well when my mom’s home. It’s not a big deal. Weekends are just a bit hard on the nerves, you know.”

It was clear that Ryou hadn’t expected him to elaborate, the look of surprise on his face told him that much. Ryou was looking up at him, the worry now easy to see. 

“You and your mother don’t get along then?” he asked carefully. He was holding tighter onto his tray, fingers white on its edges. 

Marik sighed and shrugged. “It’s not like that.” He had never been privy to a nice home life. His dad had been a drunk and a violent one at that and his mother a doormat who did nothing when her husband beat up their kid just to steer clear herself. She’d been scared, of course, didn’t want to get her share of it. Marik could understand that, but he didn’t have to like it. And now that his old man was gone, there was a silent pressure between his mother and him. Neither of them spoke about it, they didn’t look each other in the eye, but it was there. 

Ryou looked like he didn’t want to let it go, picking up his fork and twirling it in his hands. Marik really didn’t feel like explaining his shitty family dynamic to him. It wasn’t something he wanted to visit, not now, not ever if possible. Marik sighed and rubbed his neck. 

“Just couldn’t stay at home, so I ended up wondering around town until like two a.m. When finally got back home, fell asleep like that, but then had to get up again so early,” he explained shrugging like it was no big deal. 

“And that is… normal to you?” Ryou asked quietly. 

“Well, sometimes,” Marik said. “Look, not to be rude or anything, but I’m just really tired right now. Don’t feel like answering deep questions. And I might… ah… Look, if I snap at you today, it’s because I’m tired, okay? I don’t mean anything by it.”

Ryou’s eyes softened and he nodded. They started eating their lunch in a comfortable silence. For once it didn’t feel forced, but actually rather… homely. Marik actually felt at peace and in school no less. 

He could get used to this.


	16. Chapter 16

Assigning three essays for one week must have been some sort of a cruel joke from the school board. Marik was buried deep in his notes, trying to keep his anger in check so he wouldn’t tear up his half-finished literary essay on the book their teacher had forced them to read. Marik had already snapped one pencil in his fury, broken more than a few tips, begging for a sharpener from Ryou once in what felt like every ten minutes. But Ryou never complained, just smiled this odd sort of smile when he handed the sharpener over. The smile told Marik that Ryou was finally getting comfortable around him, and that was nice. But it also told him Ryou was this close to laughing at him every time he cursed and threw his pencil down.

How had they gotten here? How had _he_ gotten here? It was hard to believe that a bit over a year ago he had been shoving Ryou into lockers and calling him names.

Marik’s mood soured considerably. He did not want to go there. He was _never_ going back to that, not when the other option was this, sitting with Bakura Ryou in the school library, watching him flash one of those small smiles Ryou tried to hide behind his pale hand. 

Life was pretty good. There had been no signs of Ryou’s bullies ever since they had beaten Marik up. He hoped they’d seen the last of them, that the pricks had found a new victim or something. 

Marik still walked Ryou home every day. Sometimes he got invited upstairs for tea and they’d have conversations that felt like poking the ice, trying if they actually could co-exist and even become friends. 

He still went to see the counselor on Thursdays and he had a feeling that she was proud of him. It was really nice. Marik also spoke with Malik, they called each other once a week. It was good to hear from his cousins and how they were doing. Their support meant a huge deal to Marik. It was good to know that there was at least some people out there who had his back and rooted for him. Sometimes all of that coupled with the time spent with Ryou was enough to help him sleep at weekends. But more often Marik came to school tired on Monday mornings and Ryou would look at him worryingly. And just seeing that his former victim cared enough to worry made Marik feel infinitely better. 

All in all, life was great. Could not have been better. 

Well, maybe if he didn’t have three different essays to write for the end of the week. It was Wednesday now, he only had two days to get this done and he only had one of the three assignments done. Ryou was proofreading his chicken scratched essay with half a frown, making notes on the side. This could only end well. 

Marik put a bit too much pressure on his pencil and the tip broke off again. He cursed loudly, earning warning glares from a group students a few tables away. Marik snarled at them, a few veins appearing on his face as anger flared in him. The students turned hastily back to their joined cramming, whispering to each other. 

“Calm down, Ishtar,” Ryou said simply and handed over his sharpener again. “And you can hold onto this until you are finished with your book report.”

Marik bit the inside of his cheek and breathed through his nose. Then he took the tiny sharpener from Ryou’s hand and carefully used it to get his pencil back to a working condition. 

“Jounochi told me today that you gave him, and I quote, the ‘evil eye’ yesterday,” Ryou said conversationally, stacking up Marik’s essay neatly. “Did you really?”

He shrugged. The blond had been following him again, getting too close. Marik had done the one thing that he knew would send him packing: given him a sinister glare. For a moment it had looked like the former delinquent was going to fight him, but then a teacher had walked by and they had gone on their separate ways. Better that way, Marik thought. Wouldn’t it be anticlimactic if after all this time he’d end up getting expelled for fighting someone like Katsuya?

Ryou just smiled at his short gestures, a sight Marik was getting alarmingly smitten over. 

“He isn’t really the best person to judge you, though,” Ryou continued with a shrug of his own. “Knowing what he has done in his life. You’d think he had some sympathy for someone like you trying to make a difference. But no, I guess that’s too much to ask.”

By the end of the day Marik managed by some miracle scrape together two legible essays, one over some book he’d read through, understanding barely anything, and another on renewable energy sources or something. He was forced to leave the final one unfinished, but Ryou assured him that he’d be able to do it on his own no problem. And if Ryou had faith in his capabilities, then what could go wrong?

That day, Marik was invited for tea again. Ryou’s apartment was becoming quite familiar for him. The doorman knew him by name these days, never failing to greet him with a smile when he came around. Kimura was his name or something. Marik knew some of the tenants as well, some of them new, others vaguely familiar from before. Most of them were indifferent of him, but there were a handful of wonderful individuals who would give him the stink eye when he showed up with Ryou. None of them ever caused any trouble, but Marik could hear them whispering loudly when he showed up. But Ryou did not seem to care about it, so neither would he. 

They made their way to the kitchen, following the norm set by days of experience. Marik seated himself on the chair that had become his spot while Ryou bustled with the water. 

It was so… casual. Homely, really. Marik felt at peace sitting in Bakura Ryou’s kitchen, listening to him making tea. Ryou reached for a metal box containing some kind of tea he called “Earl Grey” while the water was heating on the stove. 

Soon enough the tea was ready and steaming. Marik picked the cup gingerly, trying to pretend to enjoy its taste since Ryou liked it so much. The other boy took a seat on the other side of the table, relaxing onto the chair and taking a sip. 

This was nice. Really nice. 

They drank in peaceful in silence for a moment, just enjoying it for the time being. Marik felt calm, like nothing could ruin his mood. That was, of course, before Ryou decided to break the spell. He set his cup down, moving it around until it was in a perfect line with the lines on the tablecloth. 

“I have been wondering for a while and I never thought I could get a chance to ask… But now you are here and we are sitting down drinking tea…” Ryou seemed nervous, tapping his fingers against the cup. 

“What?” Marik asked leaning back on his chair. He didn’t like it when Ryou got nervous around him, it made him feel like he was doing something wrong and he didn’t know what. 

“It’s just… Spending time with you has made me think that maybe I could make sense of… some things that have been on my mind for a long time and… and…” he stuttered. Ryou sighed and let go of his cup wring his fingers instead. 

Marik waited quietly for him to gather his thoughts. He knew Ryou would get to it sooner than later.

“Why did you do it?” Ryou asked tiredly. 

“Do what?”

“Bully me. I mean, why me in particular? I mean, yes, I was the bookworm, I guess I was the easy target, but you just zeroed in on me.”

This was bad, bad indeed. Not a place he wanted to go. Marik gritted his teeth and looked down. What had happened to the comfortable silence from just a moment ago?

Ryou was waiting patiently for an answer. When Marik looked up at him, Ryou was tilting his head slightly, no judgment in his eyes. He had the patience of a saint, something Marik could only observe with envy. 

“It’s really embarrassing,” he mumbled covering his mouth. His face was already heating up something awful. 

“Embarrassing?” Ryou asked. He sounded almost amused. “Now you got me intrigued.”

“It’s just… I… I really don’t want to tell you,” he talked to the table between them. 

“Oh?” Ryou asked. “I don’t think I’m going to give you a choice. I think you owe me this much.”

Ooh, a dirty blow, Marik thought and grimaced. Pulling out the ‘you owe me’ card. He took a peek at Ryou. Oh, he knew he had hit him bellow the belt and was feeling no shame. An amused grin was dancing on his lips. 

What a heartless prick. 

“I thought you were really pretty,” he mumbled as fast as he could get it out of his mouth, hoping his hand would cover the voice and Ryou would just leave it at that. 

Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. Ryou was staring at him, the smile gone. 

“What did you say?” he asked. 

Marik looked at the table like he was trying to burn a hole through the wooden surface. He had to fight every fiber of his being to put down his hands. 

“I said I thought you were really pretty,” he repeated slower, forcing the words out clearly. “Had the biggest crush on you.”

Not a lie, technically, even if he didn’t admit that he was still crushing pretty hard. 

It was too silent in the kitchen and it was nothing like that nice warm quiet from before. Marik’s whole body felt like it was in flames and he needed to jump out of the chair and roll on the floor to put it out, but the still air of the room forced him to stay put. Ryou had gone still and Marik didn’t have the courage to look up to see if it was disgust, intrigue or something else entirely on his face. 

“A crush?” Ryou asked, voice high like a guitar string strung too tight. “For something like that… you… The way you treated me…”

“I know, okay!” Marik said quickly. “I know it was stupid, but I was so damn confused. Hadn’t ever looked at another guy like that. Didn’t know what was going on and… and shit was just too confusing already. Look, I’m really sorry about it and – “

“How about you look me in the eye when you apologize?”

Damn. Marik bit his tongue and slowly lifted his head so he could look at Ryou on the other side of the table. 

Ryou was looking at him with a cool expression. Way too cool. Marik’s stomach was churning like crazy, but Ryou looked like nothing was out of place. It was a mask, had to be, and Marik had no idea what the other boy was thinking. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, his throat burning with strain and eyes stinging. 

It felt like hours passed before Ryou nodded slowly. “You are forgiven,” he said. 

Realization hit Marik in the head then and there. He had been apologizing a bunch to Ryou ever since his return back to Domino, but this was the first time Ryou had actually accepted any of them. 

“To be honest, I would have never guessed it was anything like that,” Ryou said, grabbing his cup and taking a long sip from it. “I used to spend long sleepless nights crying to myself, wondering why you chose me out of all the others. This… This never came to mind, to be honest.”

Marik looked back down. “I’m sorry.“

“Yeah,” Ryou said, rubbing his fingers against his mug. “So am I. Those kinds of things stay with you. But it’s over. It’s… done. And we’re both clearly different people from who we were back then. You have apologized and I… I have forgiven you. Or, well… I’m trying to.” He looked down at his hands, then back up at Marik. “It’s going to take time. But we got to move forward, right?”

That sounded pretty good to him. Marik nodded, setting his hands on the table, his own cup of tea completely forgotten at the side. He reached for it, ready to gulp it down to buy him some more time. 

Ryou stood up slowly, taking his cup and proceeding to wash it clean. The silence around them had an edge to it and Marik’s insides were clenching. He had thought that letting his secrets out was supposed to help him, supposed to make him feel better, but so far that did not seem to be the case. Malik had clearly lied to him about that. 

“So,” Ryou said slowly, back turned to Marik while he wiped the table clean. “Are we going to be this awkward around each other again?”

Marik looked down at his hands, feeling every bit as awkward as he could. He couldn’t think of anything to say, so instead he kept his mouth shut. It was safer that way. 

Ryou turned around slowly and Marik looked up at him. The boy was smiling tentatively, the small positive sign radiating like a thousand suns, scorching Marik’s skin. 

He couldn’t keep the eye contact longer than a few seconds, though. Marik looked down again, licking his teeth. 

“It wasn’t… easy to say that,” he said uncertainly, fearing what Ryou’s reaction might be. “Not an easy thing to live with.”

“I can only imagine,” Ryou said quietly. Then, after a short moment, he returned to sit back across from Marik. He was still smiling, a good sign if there ever was one. “But you’ve changed. I can see that. There’s no need to hang onto the past, right? We are friends now, aren’t we?”

Oh boy. The flaming feeling was back, heating up Marik’s face to degrees that should not have been safe for a human body. He nodded mutely, trying not to let a goofy smile spread on his face. Friends. He was a friend with Ryou. Who would have guessed? This was exactly what he had wanted at the start of this year. Who would have known that all it would take was baring his ugliest little secret out for his crush to see? It felt pretty glorious. 

Ryou reached out a tentative hand. Marik stared at it in anticipation, unsure what to expect. Slowly, carefully Ryou put his hand over his, the simple motion filling Marik’s arm with electricity that ran straight to his head, threatening to fry up his brain. And all he could do was stare at the small pale hand on his darker skin. 

It fit pretty nicely there, he had to admit. 

“Yeah,” he said a bit unevenly. “We’re friends.”

Ryo smiled a little wider and looked down. 

Marik felt tight around his chest, but surprisingly it was not a bad feeling. He felt more at ease than he had in… in… Marik couldn’t even think when he had last felt like this. It sure as hell hadn’t been back when he was a kid, not with his father in the picture. It hadn’t been after his father had died either, because that had been around the time he had been at his worst. And even though he had started to get better at Malik and Ishizu’s, he had never felt quite the peace he felt now. 

It felt almost unnatural how good it was. Like it wasn’t supposed to be this nice. He just sat there and let the cool surface of Ryou’s hand soak in his own warmth. 

That moment could have lasted a lifetime for all Marik cared, but it seemed like the other boy realized how long they had just sat like that and pulled his hand away with an awkward cough. Marik bit his tongue so he wouldn’t be able to ask him hold his hand a little longer. Instead of voicing his thoughts, he pulled his own hands back and under the table. The last thing he wanted to do was to ruin the moment by spouting something stupid. 

“Well then,” Ryou said quietly. “That cleared some air, didn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Marik agreed. “I’m real glad we… I mean, I think it’s nice to be… friends.”

Shit. Where had his words disappeared? He cleared his throat and straightened his back. Ryou was trying to hide a smile behind his palm and it was fucking adorable. Marik had to look away to keep from blushing like an idiot. 

“Can I… ask you something as well?” he said. 

“About what?” Ryou asked, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes. The expression made Marik falter, but wasn’t enough to deter him. 

“You know,” he said. “About those guys that were beating you up. About something they said.”

“Oh,” Ryou said and looked down. Marik could see him closing up before his very eyes and cursed his curiosity to the deepest pits of hell. 

“I mean, if you don’t want to, it’s fine. I just – “

“No, I… It’s fine. Sure. Go ahead.”

That’s what he said, but Marik could see how uncomfortable the situation made Ryou. But they were clearing the air, right? Now was the best chance he was going to get to ask about it. 

“It’s just that… they said something that I’ve tried not to think too much about, but… they said something about you paying them so that they would leave your friends alone?”

He left his words hanging in the air when he noticed that Ryou wasn’t reacting at all. He was just staring at the table with a defeated expression. Neither of them said anything for a moment. Marik cleared his throat again and continued. 

“They offered the same deal to me. Pay up and they’d leave you be. I punched the guy in the face.”

Ryou chuckled a bit, not sounding too convincing in his mirth. “I can see you doing that.”

“Wouldn’t have had the money anyway,” Marik said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Idiots thought I could afford to bribe them. Well, that’s their mistake. Hope I broke that guys nose for good.”

His laughter sounded a little better this time. Ryou shook his head and finally lifted his eyes from the table to look at Marik. 

“It started sometime after you left,” he said. “This group started bothering Yugi and the others. It was real childish stuff, they egged Yugi’s grandpa’s house and catcalled Anzu, things like that. At first it wasn’t even worth thinking about. But then they started bothering Jounochi’s sister and he kind of… got mad. Got into a fight and they beat him up pretty bad. We begged him, but he didn’t take it to the police. You know how pigheaded he can be.”

Yeah. It didn’t take a genius to see that Katsuya wasn’t one to give up once he had made his mind. Especially if someone had hurt those he cared about. 

“He managed to really piss off those guys and things took a turn to the worse,” Ryou explained, waving his hand. “I thought I could do something. I knew how it felt to… to…” He looked away and drew a breath. “To be afraid of bullies. It wasn’t something I wished for my friends. I thought I could help divert the attention away from them to... well… It didn’t quite work how I had hoped, but at least those guys left my friends be.”

Marik stared at him dumbly. He had not expected the reasons to be something quite like this. 

“But… If you’re doing this for the Friendship Gang, then why aren’t you hanging out with them anymore?”

Ryou lifted an eyebrow and smiled a little. “Friendship Gang?” he asked amusedly. 

Whoops. Not the term he probably should have said out loud. 

“You’re avoiding the question,” Marik muttered, rubbing his neck. 

“Yes,” Ryou said. “I guess I am.” He shifted on his seat, bringing his hands up and starting to wring them again. Never a good sign. “It’s just that… I didn’t want them involved. There was nothing they could’ve done anyway, so… They started asking questions and it got harder and harder to pretend like…” His voice grew weaker the farther he got. “I thought it would be easier to just… stop being near them. To take it by myself.”

Ryou was looking miserable, hunched over in his seat with his head pulled between his shoulders. His hands had stopped their movements with his fingers intertwined and interlocked into tight knots. 

Marik probably should have hesitated before blurting it out, but it didn’t even occur to him to keep his mouth shut before: “That’s fucking stupid,” got out and fell between them. 

Ryou looked up at him, staring at Marik like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“Well, I didn’t – “

“And your friends were morons too,” Marik continued before he could stop himself. “They shouldn’t just have let you leave like that. They should’ve helped.”

“Yes, well, I did do my best to make that as hard as possible,” Ryou shook his head and smiled humorlessly. “I can be rather unapproachable when I want to be.”

Marik chuckled. “You’re telling me?” he said. 

“Not everyone is as stubborn as you are in, ah, what was it?” Ryou tapped his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Ah yes, ‘beating up my bullies’. To be honest, for a long while I thought it was some sort of a territory thing for you.”

That was just embarrassing. Marik groaned and pulled back, rubbing his hands over his face and stretching the skin of his cheeks. Ryou just laughed at that. 

He laughed. And it felt good. Marik was smiling too and his face felt funny for it. 

“I’m glad we talked about this,” Ryou said after a while. “I know I already said it, but… It really cleared the air, didn’t it?”

It sure had. It was weird to Marik how easy it had been to talk about something as hard as this and actually come out better for it in the end. 

But here they were, sitting by a table in Bakura Ryou’s house, having a conversation over tea about their big and ugly secrets. 

And it was surprisingly nice.


	17. Chapter 17

Fridays were famously a high school student’s favorite day. And why wouldn’t they be? They marked a day of freedom, if only for the weekend. It was for partying, for relaxation and time with friends. 

Marik had not seen the shine of it after starting his school career over. Right now his friend count was exactly two and one of them was half way across the planet in Egypt and the other he only saw during school days. Weekends were torture for him, so it only made sense that Fridays weren’t his favorite either. And it wasn’t like Marik could go partying either. His meds did not exactly go well with alcohol and he was not taking any risks with that shit. Not that Marik would have even been welcome to most parties taking place around Domino. 

And the day only took a turn to the worse when during his lunch break he happened to look outside. Dark clouds had been gathering in the sky since the morning and by the lunch hour it was pretty clear that when it was going to rain, it was going to pour. Wasn’t it enough that it was a Friday? Marik really didn’t need this shit dampening his already sour mood. Not only that, he’d been feeling a bit under the weather for a few days now, his throat sore and nose running. 

This shit was just another layer to add to the day. He was going to have to spend another weekend at home, trying to avoid his mother in the small confined space of her house. And if the rain would continue over the weekend, he wouldn’t be going outside either. 

Marik was not a big fan of rain. 

By the time the school day came to an end, the skies had opened their floodgates and the rain was coming down hard. The weather was showing no signs of change for the foreseeable future, so Marik knew for a fact that he would be soaking wet by the time he got home. 

He stared glumly at the puddles gathering on the pavement while he waited for Ryou. He wasn’t far behind, coming to a halt next to Marik, looking at him curiously. 

Being the gentleman Marik wanted to believe he could be he offered to give his jacket to Ryou so he wouldn’t get wet on their way home. Ryou looked at him incredulously and pulled out an umbrella. 

“I actually read the weather forecast this morning,” he said dryly. “Don’t you have an umbrella with you?”

No, he didn’t. Marik sighed in defeat. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure if he even owned one. His mom must have had one somewhere in the house, but it would probably be one of those shitty ones you could get for cheap. One of those whose only purpose in life seemed to be to catch the wind and flop around uselessly and dislocate your arm instead of protecting you from rain. Well, his jacket might not be waterproof, but it was only a fifteen or so minutes walk to Ryou’s and then another half an hour to his place. 

He wasn’t going to be dry before Monday. 

Ryou opened his umbrella and stepped out. It was a sturdy one, looked like nothing could break it and no water could get past it. It was way too big for Ryou as well, creating a wide circle around him to keep passers-by away from his personal bubble. Marik drew in a defeated breath and pulled his hood over his hair before following after Ryou. The cloth pushed down his impressive lion’s mane, forcing the usual spikes to flatten against his head. They trudged on for a while in silence, feet splashing into the puddles on the ground. Ryou kept shooting odd glances his way, but Marik was having trouble focusing on anything other than his socks getting wet. He tried to think positively, he was spending time with Ryou and so what if he felt like he was drowning in his own jacket?

“You’re not going to come under the umbrella, are you?” Ryou asked, his annoyed voice cutting through Marik’s musings.

Had he looked like he was about to? Marik frowned in confusion. Ryou sounded accusing, like he was worried Marik was going to step next to him and bother him and his personal space. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” he said callously. 

“But you’re getting wet!” Ryou said and grabbed a hold of his sleeve. Lifting the umbrella higher so Marik wouldn’t have to crouch, Ryou pulled him under the cover. 

Oh. _Oh!_ Ryou had been offering to share the umbrella. Now it made more sense. Marik was feeling uncomfortable again. He was so close to Ryou that his arm was brushing against Ryou’s with every step. He was breathing unevenly and he was pretty sure Ryou could tell. But if Ryou noticed something, he didn’t say. He just held out the umbrella for them and kept walking like nothing was wrong. 

And nothing was wrong. This was just fine, Marik told himself. Wasn’t this what he had been dreaming about? Small moments of normalcy, no fighting, no violence. He and Ryou were friends now. It was what he had wanted all along. 

It was a shame that now that he had it, though, he wanted more. And Ryou’s arm brushing against his did little to help the situation. 

At the familiar apartment building Ryou invited him in again. Marik thought that maybe it would have been better if he just left, it looked like the rain wasn’t going to end any time soon and it might have just been easier to trudge back home as soon as possible. He doubted he’d want to leave the Bakura residence once he got in and away from the cold. But Ryou was insistent, telling him to stay just for a while. 

The warmth that assaulted them as they got in made Marik realize just how cold he was. He shrugged off his jacket, the fabric heavy from all the water it had soaked up. Ryou offered to take it to dry. 

“I don’t know if I should stay that long,” Marik said rubbing his neck. “Just until I get warmed up. Might not want to get wet again if I get all dry and cozy here.”

“Or you could wait out the rain here,” Ryou said and shrugged indifferently. “It’s all the same to me. We could… watch some movies or something.”

That sounded so… casual. Like something that real friends would do together. Marik lowered his head, feeling a whole lot like the dumb teenager he was. 

“Sure, I guess,” he said. “I mean, we don’t know when the storm’s gonna blow over, so – “

“Don’t worry about it,” Ryou said turning his back on Marik as he carried his sopping wet jacket to dry in the bathroom. “I told you I checked the weather report, didn’t I?”

Marik relaxed. Yeah. It’d probably only be for a few hours anyway and it wasn’t like he was in a hurry to go back home. It was just a regular afternoon at the Bakura residence. Nothing new about that. He walked to the living room, plopping to sit on the floor so he wouldn’t soak up the couch with his clothes. He shook his hair like a wet dog, sending droplets of water flying around. Raking his fingers through the strands he looked for those movies Ryou had mentioned. But he could see none in the living room area. The place was as barren and impersonal as ever. Not Marik’s favorite place in the house. 

Well, to be fair, he’d only been allowed to the kitchen, living room and the bathroom so far. Ryou hadn’t taken him to see his room and Marik hadn’t pestered him about it. He was curious, naturally, but this thing they had built between them was so fragile, so new, that he didn’t dare to do anything that might shake the boat. 

“I’ll make us some tea!” Ryou called out passing the living room on his way to the kitchen. Marik got up on his feet and followed him close behind. He might not have learned to love tea, but he knew that a warm drink would do wonders right about now. 

The kitchen was probably Marik’s favorite area in the house so far. Not because of the freaky cleanliness of it, but because it had the most personal and rugged piece of furniture he had seen in the Bakura residence: the old lamp over the small table. It was so out of place in the tidy kitchen that Marik felt some sort of weird kinship towards it. He’d asked about it once and Ryou had told that his sister had chosen the lamp when she’d been small. Their parents had tried to tell her no, but she had insisted. 

After Ryou’s sister had died, Ryou had hung the lamp in the kitchen and his dad hadn’t had the heart to remove it. 

Sipping the tea gained a new layer of comfort now that the warm drink started heating up Marik’s insides. He hadn’t even realized he was still shivering before he felt the warmth seeping through the ceramic surface and into his fingers. He sighed contently. Yep. If this was what his new life was going to be like, he would never go back to his old ways. And he would be damned if he did something to destroy this little piece of heaven. 

“You should really get yourself an umbrella,” Ryou said. “You look awful.”

Marik barked a laugh. His usually magnificent hair was flopping around his head, dripping wet. He must have looked more like Malik than his usual self now. The two of them really did come from the same family line, sharing their looks almost to a tee. 

“Hold on,” Ryou said. “I’ll get you a towel. You’re making puddles wherever you go.”

When he returned, he tossed a fluffy white towel at Marik’s head, laughing at his annoyed growling when the fabric blinded him momentarily. The towel was awfully fancy, not at all like the ones his mom had at home and it smelled just as clean as the rest of the house. Marik rubbed the towel against his head vigorously, mussing and tangling the hair in the process and it felt like the cloth soaked up the dampness like a sponge. 

Setting down the white fluffy cloud of softness, Marik noticed Ryou staring at him. He hadn’t seen Ryou looking at him like that before, the expression on his face a mystery. 

“…What?” he asked uncertainly. 

Ryou looked like he had been caught in deep thought and shook his head shortly, closing his eyes and smiling a little. 

“Nothing,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.”


	18. Chapter 18

After the teatime, Marik returned back to the living room while Ryou washed the cups with the same vigor he always used, wiping out all evidence that anyone had ever even stepped into the kitchen area. Marik walked a slow circle around the sofa, running his fingers over the fabric. He walked to the window to peer outside. It was still raining like someone had forgotten to close a tap up in the skies. He could see the streets nearly flooding with the water. His socks hadn’t even had time to dry yet. Marik grumbled in annoyance. Getting back home would be a pain. The tea had warmed him up nicely, but it wouldn’t last long once he got back out there. Ryou had suggested waiting out the rain, but it didn’t look like the downpour was going to end any time soon. He frowned. 

Soft footfalls behind him alerted Marik to the presence of Ryou. He turned around just in time to see the boy come into the room, hands rubbing against each other to get rid of the last bit of moisture from the dishes. 

“So… Did you want to watch a movie or something?” Marik asked uncertainly. 

Ryou flashed a bright smile, damn near blinding Marik then and there. 

“Sure,” he said. “Do you like horror?”

Marik lifted a brow. Horror? 

“Come one,” Ryou said nearly skipping out of the room, waving his hand to get Marik to follow him. “I’ll show you my collection!”

This was… new. Marik tried to think back to a moment when he had seen Ryou this excited, but came up short. This was a whole new side to him, something Marik had never seen before. He followed after him in a hurry. 

They passed a few closed doors on their way. Ryou’s apartment was huge considering that most of the time he lived all by himself. One of these doors led into the bathroom, a fancy place Marik had been granted access to, and another to Ryou’s father’s room. That door was always closed as far as he was aware. The rest were still a mystery to him. Marik had never been this deep into the house. 

It dawned on him a bit too late that Ryou was leading him to his room. Marik halted at the doorway, unsure if he should follow him in. He’d been invited, right? So it should have been okay. But suddenly his heart was beating in his throat and doubt filled his being. Marik had wanted to see Ryou’s room for a while, but hadn’t had the nerve to ask. He’d reckoned that if Ryou wanted Marik to see his room, he would let him and now he was here. The invitation had been clear. Marik licked his lips, drew in a breath, then grabbed the door handle and followed in. 

He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. In his mind he had imagined something resembling the living room or the kitchen, another lifeless room with white walls and a neatly made bed in the corner. Maybe an orderly desk near a window, maybe something resembling a library, with more books stacked neatly like in the living room. Yeah. Something like that. But this… He had never thought to expect this. 

It was… a barely contained chaos. 

Ryo’s bed was at the farthest corner of his room, unmade with the cover hanging half way to the floor and the pillow ruffled and askew. Where the walls were not hidden by bookshelves, they were covered by posters of different gaming events, games and movies. The shelves themselves were full of books, figurines and knickknacks in what seemed like a completely random order. Worse yet was the floor, covered in cards, unfinished Monster World sets and crafting tools. 

And all Marik could do was stand still and stare as Ryou navigated through the mess with practiced ease. He didn’t dare get in. He might accidentally step on something and break it! This was not the neat and well-kept Ryou he had thought he knew. 

He loved it. 

“Well?” Ryou asked, kneeling before one of the shelves. He was playing with the ends of his hair, not quite meeting Marik’s awestruck stare. “Are you just going to stand there all day or are you going to help me pick a movie?”

“I like your room,” Marik blurted out. 

Ryou laughed nervously and started rolling a strand of hair around his finger. Marik wasn’t sure if he could trust his own judgment, but he could swear he was blushing. 

“Thanks,” Ryou said. “It’s a real mess. I hope you don’t mind. I was just in the middle of building a set for my new campaign.”

Oh yeah. Right. Ryou was a nerd. Marik nodded, trying to look like he knew anything about Monster World or the like. Careful with his steps, he maneuvered past the delicate looking builds, fearing every step of the way that he would topple over and destroy something precious. But by some miracle he made it all the way to where Ryou was kneeling without breaking anything and that warranted a sigh of relief.

So this was Ryou’s movie collection. Once again Marik realized that he was in a dire need of rethinking his expectations. He had thought that Ryou would be into some types of artsy foreign movies with long runtimes and confusing dialogue, or maybe historical drama. But no. Looking at Ryou’s movie collection, it became pretty clear that he was a horror movie buff. 

Well, he’d been about half right, at least, since it looked like most of these movies had names in languages Marik couldn’t read. He only recognized a handful of them by name, none of them by reputation. Marik’s head was spinning with the amount of new things he was learning. 

He turned to look at Ryou, who was smiling expectantly at him. 

“I don’t – “ he started. 

“You can choose,” Ryou cut in. “I’ve seen all of them at least three times, so you can just pick whatever you like.”

They were crouching in front of the shelf, really close to each other, knees brushing and Marik could feel Ryou’s breaths washing over his face. He licked his teeth, swallowed and turned to look at the movies again. 

He didn’t know any of these. He liked action flicks, those with lots of explosions, buff guys and hot chicks and long car chase sequences. And he doubted he’d find any of those here. So Marik decided to choose one at random, pointing his finger at a cover that looked most interesting. 

“Oh, that’s a good choice!” Ryou said, pulling out the DVD. 

Thirty minutes into the movie, it felt like Ryou had lied. 

It was some sort of a foreign psychological horror movie with far too little action and bloodshed and all too much talking and subtitles. Half an hour of the movie’s two hour run time had passed, and Marik wasn’t sure what the plot was supposed to be. 

They’d settled into the living room, lounging on the sofa and watching the flick. There weren’t any snacks or anything, but Marik didn’t really mind. It wasn’t like they’d planned this and neither of them wanted to go back out into the rain to buy a bag of chips. Marik had sat down on one end of the sofa, expecting Ryou to take the other, but he had instead sat down pretty close to him, which was nice. It was weird how relaxed Ryou was being. It was good, of course, there was no doubt about that. Marik just wasn’t sure… how he was supposed to act. What was expected of him? He liked sitting here with Ryou, close enough that he could feel Ryou’s warmth through his damp clothes, but what was he supposed to do?

It would have been nice to move just a little closer, bridge that small gap between them and just… put his arm around Ryou’s shoulder. He was sitting so close. Marik glanced at him. Ryou was engrossed in the movie, sitting with his feet on the sofa and leaning his cheek into his hand. What would he do if Marik moved closer? How would he react?

Probably badly, all things considered. Marik sighed and leaned back, trying to relax and enjoy the movie, even though he had no idea who half of these characters were supposed to be. It was hard to concentrate while being forced to read subtitles. 

The sofa was very comfortable and it was warm and cozy in the Bakura residence once you got used to the stinging smell of air freshener. Marik slouched down, crossing his arms and leaning his head against his shoulder. His eyes felt heavy and the droning voice of the supposed main character had a stronger effect than a tranquilizer. 

From the corner of his eye Marik could see Ryou looking at him and smiling a little. 

“You want a pillow or something?” he asked. 

Marik grunted a noncommittal answer and straightened his back, trying to stay awake by the sheer force of his will. Ryou just laughed at him and returned his attention back to the movie. Marik didn’t bother with it, instead keeping his eyes on Ryou now. Was it just his imagination, or had he moved closer to Marik? Their thighs were touching and he wasn’t sure when that had happened. But he was too drowsy to do anything about it. 

Marik wasn’t sure how long the movie had been going on until he actually fell asleep. One minute he’d been dozing off, staring at Ryou’s hands and thinking how glad he was that he wasn’t wringing them like he wanted to tear his fingers off, the next his momentary eye resting had turned into honest to God sleep. 

“Ishtar? Ishtar, come on. Wake up.” A hand landed on his shoulder, barely touching at all.

Marik let out a disgruntled noise. No. He didn’t want to. 

Someone was laughing. Softly. And very near him. The touch on his shoulder grew heavier and started shaking him. 

“You can’t sleep on the couch, Ishtar. Come on, sleepyhead. Your back will be sore in the morning.”

He reached out to rub his eyes. Damn. Ryou’s living room had gone so dark. The TV gave barely enough light for him to see Ryou sitting close to him. Marik looked around groggily. 

Ryou was looking at him with a tilted head and a smile. It sent butterflies into Marik’s stomach and he felt like running. But the hand on his shoulder kept him rooted to his spot. 

“The movie wasn’t that bad, was it?” Ryou asked and his voice was soft and quiet in the dark room and Marik’s eyes moved to his lips. 

No. He had more self-restraint than that. Marik pulled back and stretched his arms over his head. His back popped loudly and he started to feel more awake again. 

“I thought horror movies were supposed to be scary,” he said. “Didn’t scare me even once.”

“The fear was in the atmosphere,” Ryou said crossing his arms. He was still smiling, though. “You would have been shivering in your boots had you actually been paying attention.”

“But there were no jump scares.”

Ryou looked appalled, a hand over his heart. “Why, good sir, I can guarantee that a _real_ horror movie doesn’t need such cheap trickery.”

Marik laughed and shook his head. He loved this new side of Ryou he was seeing, this guy who could joke around and talk about things he actually cared about while Marik was in the same room. Hell, talk about those things _with_ him. It was really special, and Marik wasn’t sure what he had done right to earn this. 

Looking around the room it became even more apparent how dark it actually was in there. But Marik could hear the rainfall pelting against the window outside. It didn’t sound like it had let up at all while he’d been snoozing. 

“How long was I out?” he asked, turning back to Ryou. 

“Maybe an hour or so,” he said with a smile. Ryou laughed softly leaning closer, his voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t want to wake you up, you looked so relaxed.”

An hour. Marik groaned and ran his hands through his hair. Just his luck to fall asleep while in Ryou’s company. And during a movie he had been so excited to see too. So stupid. 

Marik stood up from the sofa and stretched properly. The blood flowing back to his limbs made his legs feel like they’d been pricked full of needles, but he tried to pretend like it didn’t bother him. He cracked his neck from side to side, making Ryou cringe. 

“Next time I’m going to have to bring some of my movies. Won’t fall asleep then,” Marik said. Then he caught what he had just blurted out and turned to look at Ryou. There was… going to be a next time, right?

Ryou didn’t look too fazed by his words, just smiled a lopsided grin and said: “Sure. Like _your_ taste in movies is going to be that much better.”

Yeah. There was going to be a next time. Because they were friends. Marik’s insides were clenching, but it wasn’t a bad feeling at all. Rather nice, actually. 

He walked to the window and peered past the curtains outside. It was completely dark out there. Only the street lamps down on the ground offered any light and they reflected from the puddles on the ground. Well, it was more like small streams than puddles by now, the water running down hill from the building and towards the streets further below. It was like he’d feared. The rain hadn’t eased up at all.

“It’s getting late,” Marik muttered. He shouldn’t have stayed this long. He’d gotten warm and comfortable. Even his socks had had time to dry a little. And now he’d be forced to go back there, get wet again and arrive home a shivering mess most likely. 

Ryou rose from the couch, moving next to him. He looked through the window as well, then turned to Marik. He wasn’t smiling anymore, but there was this odd sort of an expression there, one that Marik wasn’t sure how to read. 

“It’s still raining, though,” he said softly, looking him in the eye. 

“Yeah,” Marik sighed. It looked like it was going to rain through the whole night. If he wanted to get home, he probably should just bite the bullet and leave now. Get it over with. Shivers ran up his spine at the mere thought. 

Ryou said something, but his voice was so quiet Marik couldn’t hear it, even though they were standing next to each other. He turned to look at Ryou, who was looking at the window and twisting his fingers. The sight of it put Marik immediately on the edge. Something was wrong, something had happened and ruined the calm and comfortable atmosphere and now Ryou was nervous again. It turned the churning in Marik’s gut sour, made cold sweat rise to the skin of his back and neck. 

What had he done now?

No. He’d done everything right today. Marik might not have known what had suddenly made Ryou nervous, but it wasn’t him. And he was going to leave before he could make it any worse. He bit his teeth together, trying to think how the night had been a success and how he wasn’t going to ruin it. He turned away from the window, breathing in a calming breath. If he was going to leave, there was no time like the present, right? Maybe, if Marik asked nicely, he could borrow Ryou’s umbrella for the night and return it on Monday. Marik started to make his way to the bathroom. 

Ryou let out an inquisitive sound and turned to follow him. “Wh- where are you going?” he asked. 

“To get my jacket,” Marik answered over his shoulder. He could see that Ryou had stopped fidgeting with his fingers. “I’m gonna leave now.”

“But what about waiting out the storm?” Ryou asked. His voice was reaching higher pitches and it was honestly scaring Marik. Why was Ryou looking at him like that? Like Marik had somehow done something bad and ruined the night after all. He needed to get out of there, his insides were twisting and this was doing nothing to help. 

Marik grabbed his jacket from the heater in the bathroom. The floor underneath it was wet from the water that had dripped from the cloth and the jacket still wasn’t dry. It was heavy with water and warm to the touch, but that warmth wouldn’t last long out in the rain. Marik didn’t feel like putting it on, knowing that it would start soaking up his shirt even before he could make it out. But the alternative wasn’t all that great either. 

“Yeah, I was going to,” he answered Ryou’s question, resting the jacket on his arm. “But it’s going to rain all night.”

“I know.”

Marik turned to look at Ryou. He was looking at his feet. In the bright artificial light of the bathroom Marik could clearly see how Ryou’s cheeks had a dusting of pink on them, a blush that looked out of place. Why was it there?

“I told you, I read the weather forecast,” Ryou continued, addressing the floor apparently. “And it said that it’d be raining all the way to Saturday afternoon.”

“Then why’d you – “

Ryou lifted his head to look Marik in the eye. “I thought that maybe you’d like to stay here until that.” 

Marik’s head was buzzing and he couldn’t think. Stay? Stay longer? What –?

“Stay the night here,” Ryou said, his voice louder than it needed to be. 

The bathroom rang silent, or maybe it was just the ringing between Marik’s ears that was making it harder for him to process Ryou’s words. Ryou was studying his face, fingers interlocked around each other, stilled into an awkward angle. The air around them was heavy and things were starting to get hazy in Marik’s head. He swallowed heavily. 

“Ah, well…” Marik started. 

“You can sleep in the guest room, and… and I can borrow you anything you need for the night.”

There was an odd sort of desperation to Ryou’s voice Marik couldn’t understand. He’d been acting so differently the whole evening and Marik was having a hard time adjusting. He’d loved it so far, he really had, but this was just too much. He wanted a few days to think it over. The way Marik’s stomach was twisting made him feel sick. He should have wanted to stay, right?

He moved the jacket around in his hands so he could freely rub his hands over his face. His palms were sweaty and they felt cold against his skin. Ryou’s waiting stare was boring into his skin, drilling through and hollowing his bones. Marik was starting to panic. 

“Why would you…? This doesn’t – I’m going to – “ He couldn’t get a word out. 

Ryou stepped closer, approaching Marik and getting into his personal bubble. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to go home. You can stay here for the weekend.”

Marik couldn’t get a word out. He buried his fingers in his hair and hooked them there, pulling at the strands with just a bit too much pressure, making his scalp hurt. 

“I remember you telling me how you don’t like to spend your weekends at home,” Ryou continued, his voice growing even softer. “Well, now you don’t have to. You can stay right here.”

No. _No._ This wasn’t…

Ryou reached out his hand and set it on Marik’s arm, looking him in the eye.

So close. Marik’s heart was beating in his throat and his eyes flew to Ryou’s lips. Was it just him or was Ryou leaning even closer? Were his eyes growing hooded? Ryou’s cheeks were rosy red in the fluorescent light of the bathroom and for one second, one blissful second Marik thought he was going to kiss Bakura Ryou. 

But his loudly beating heart wouldn’t let his anxiety be. There was no way. It couldn’t be, he was reading the signals wrong and if he didn’t stop himself right there, he was going to do something both of them were going to regret. 

He pulled back, making Ryou sway. He was too close. His touch was making Marik dizzy and it was making him more and more frustrated. Marik pulled his arm free and took a step back. He couldn’t stay. He just couldn’t. He and Ryou wanted different things and Marik was this close to trying to force his own needs on him. 

He needed to get out of here while he was still thinking somewhat clearly.

He wasn’t. He hadn’t had a single clear thought in his head ever since stepping into the bathroom and Ryou standing this close wasn’t doing him any favors. 

“Look, Ryou – “ he said, lifting his hands in an apologetic gesture. 

“I want you to stay.”

Oh God. Marik was starting to get frustrated. And when he got frustrated, he got angry. The beating of his heart was starting to hurt and Marik had to fight to keep his breathing calm. He was biting down on his tongue so bad he could taste blood. 

Ryou was standing between Marik and his freedom, a stubborn look etched onto his face. He wasn’t planning on letting Marik leave, was he? It just irked Marik more. He wanted to leave and Ryou wasn’t letting him. He wanted to grab a hold of Ryou’s shirt and press him against the wall and kiss him senseless. 

No. No, he wanted to leave and clear his head. Marik bit his teeth together, trying to ride out the rushing anger coiling in his guts. Breathe in, breathe out, Ishizu would say. One breath at a time, there was no hurry. 

“Really need to get going,” Marik managed to force out through his teeth, somewhat civilly. But clearly not politely enough, since Ryou’s brows dipped into a frown and it finally seemed to dawn on him that Marik wasn’t feeling all that well. But where the realization should have made him worry for his own safety, Ryou looked to be more worried for Marik. 

“Ishtar?” he asked softly. 

A scene from his childhood came to Marik’s mind. His father getting angry, his mother trying to talk to him, to calm him down. 

His father smashing a bottle over his mother’s head. 

Marik gasped for air, scaring both of them. Ryou took half a step back, his mouth opening to say something. Before he could get a word out, Marik pushed past him, out of the bathroom and into the hallway past it. He needed to get going. Needed to get out. 

“Ishtar, wait!” Ryou called. “Wait, I’m sorry. Was it something I said?”

Fuck. Shit. No, Marik wanted to say. No it wasn’t your fault. It was just Marik, Marik and his fucked up head that couldn’t do one thing right, couldn’t keep his shit together. But he couldn’t get the words out. He couldn’t get much more out than a simple: “I’m leaving.”

“But your mom – “

“I didn’t tell you that so you could use it against me!” Marik barked. The last thing he wanted to think about right now was his mother. 

Ryou blanched and lifted his hands up. “N- no, I didn’t meant it like that, Ishtar, I – “

He wasn’t going to wait around any longer. He threw the front door open and marched towards the elevator. Marik pulled his jacket on. It was going to be alright, he told himself. He just needed to get out and get some time to think this through. 

Shit. Of course the elevator wasn’t on the right floor. Marik roared and punched the wall next to the call button. 

The walls here weren’t from the same shitty material it was back at Marik’s mom’s house and it didn’t give under his assault. Pain cracked through his nerves when his fist connected with the concrete, his bones smarting and skin breaking on contact. 

Pain was good. Pain granted clarity. Pain was familiar. Marik pulled his fist back, ready to give it another hit, to either break his hand or the wall, whichever came first. 

He couldn’t get another hit in, though, because of a pair of pale hands grabbing hold of his, pulling him back. 

“Please!” Ryou cried and he was actually crying, tears running down his cheeks. “Please stop. It wasn’t – I didn’t –“

It was too late now, Marik thought somewhere at the back of his mind. He’d done it now. It was broken. He’d made Ryou cry again. Just like he had hoped he’d never do. But here they were. This was familiar. This anger, this image. And Marik wanted to hit his head against the wall next, to break something. Maybe break himself.

But Ryou was holding onto his arm like he never intended to let go. There was panic in those eyes, they darted around Marik’s face, fear behind those tears. 

“Ishtar,” Ryou said. His voice wavered like crazy. 

He’d broken it. He’d ruined it. Just like he had known he would. 

“Marik, I – “

He wrenched his arm free of Ryou’s hold and grabbed hold of his shirt, nearly ripping him off his feet when he threw him against a wall. Ryou let out a strangled yelp and Marik silenced it with his lips, swallowing down the following shocked grunt as well. 

The kiss was nothing like he’d fantasized about. It wasn’t soft, it wasn’t warm, it wasn’t cuddly. Ryou wasn’t submissive under his hold, nor was he melting into his touch. It was raw, painful and horrible. 

And Marik loved it. 

He loved the taste, loved the desperation. It felt so much better than pain. No, it was a different sort of pain, deeper, more guttural. Ryou’s fingers were in his hair, raking, pulling. Marik couldn’t move his from the front of Ryou’s shirt. He couldn’t let go. It was all going to dissolve when he would. 

But it wouldn’t last forever. It couldn’t. And a neighbor opening her door and letting out an outraged screech was enough to tear Marik off Ryou. 

It was that old bitch and her dog that had tried to give Marik trouble before. And she looked like she’d just been struck wordless, staring at them. 

Ryou was starting to say something. His face was flustered and hair out of place, but the tears in his eyes were clear for all three of them to see. 

Marik felt a hollow pit opening in his stomach when the gravity of what he had done finally sunk in. 

He couldn’t hear a word Ryou was saying, the conversation he was having with his neighbor went right over his head. Marik was staggering when he made his way to the stairway. His head was going to split, he was going to fall over and break open his skull. 

Maybe that would be a good thing. 

Ryou said something, called after him, but Marik didn’t stop to listen. He was cursing out loud, the words were coming out of his mouth like a vomit and he couldn’t stop it. He stumbled down the stairs and out of the building

He’d done it now.

It was over.


	19. Chapter 19

Marik was staring at the wall next to his bed, curled up under his covers. He was staring at the wall and seeing nothing. 

He’d been doing that for a few hours now, ever since he’d woken up. He just didn’t have it in him to move. There was no point. Marik had no energy. So he lay there and stared. 

He’d gotten home around midnight, soaked wet through and through, shivering like he was dying. And it hadn’t been all for the cold either. When he’d finally reached home, Marik had just collapsed to sit on the floor, too tired to move, too tired to care. He had run the whole way from Ryou’s house and there had been nothing left of him to give. So he’d sat down with his back against the wall and stared at his hands. He wasn’t sure how long he’d ended up sitting there for, but when he’d finally moved to remove his wet clothes, Marik had been freezing.

Marik’s body felt twice as heavy as it should have. The simple act of moving felt like a huge task he could not think to take. The thought of getting up and doing… anything… was a hollow joke that failed to make him laugh.

You fucked up, Marik thought. Like you knew you were going to. You fucked it up real good. For one selfish moment you let yourself loose, you forced yourself on Ryou. Does it feel good now? Was it everything you ever wanted?

No. It really wasn’t.

Marik had buried himself under his covers, hiding underneath, nearly completely hidden from the world outside, so that the only thing he could see was the wall next to his bead. Usually it would get suffocating under the covers, but now Marik just felt cold. He closed his eyes, pretending like he was going to fall asleep and maybe stay like that forever. 

He was going to have to face Ryou again on Monday. The thought made his stomach hurt. He didn’t… he hadn’t… He felt like he was going to throw up. Marik pushed his palms into his eyes, pushed until he started seeing colorful after images dancing behind his lids. His fist hurt from where he had hit it against the wall last night, the skin around his knuckles purple. Marik groaned pitifully and regretted it immediately. His throat ached something awful. 

What was Ryou going to do? Tell the teachers? Probably. That wasn’t the worst part. Call the cops? Marik highly doubted that. Didn’t matter much. Couldn’t care less about any of that. 

Marik’s eyes felt itchy and it was hard to breathe. Even when his whole body was shivering, his head felt heavy and warm, his nose burning up. He drew in a shaky breath and covered his eyes. His hands were trembling and it had nothing to do with the cold. 

He had broken Ryou’s trust. He’d lost his cool and fucking thrown him against a wall. 

Marik bit his teeth together hard, forcing his jaw to stop trembling. 

Heavy coughs rattled his body and hurt his throat even more. He barely had enough energy left in him to let them out, to ease out the itching in his throat and to get the slime there moving. He stopped moving and faced the wall again. 

Outside the room, Marik could hear the front door opening and closing as his mother came back from her night shift. He could hear the woman moving about in the kitchen and soon enough the loud hum of the microwave reached his ears. He probably should have said something to let his mom know that he was home and not feeling that good. He didn’t, though and instead just closed his eyes. 

Next time he opened them, the light in the room had shifted and someone had shut the blinds on the window. Marik wasn’t feeling as weak as the last time, the pressure in his head had eased up a little and when he sat up to look around groggily, he noticed that a mysterious extra blanket had been thrown over his regular covers. The wet clothes he had left on the floor had disappeared as well. 

Marik fell back onto the bed with a pitiful whimper and put his hands over his eyes. They came back wet. He was crying. Fucking hell, he was crying. Marik pulled his lips into a half-hearted grimace, but couldn’t keep it for long. He swallowed down his sobs and pushed his dull nails into the soft tissue of his eyelids. It hurt a little, but wasn’t enough to remove the churning feeling in his gut. 

What was he going to do? What was the point anymore? Marik had tried his best to change but he guessed it was time to admit that nothing he could do was going to fix this. He’d been given one last chance to make things right and now there was no way Ryou was going to forgive him. Marik didn’t _want_ him to. Not after last night. And it had been such a perfect night too, movies and actual conversations. 

And then shit had hit the fan. 

Marik lay on his side, eyes closed, as still as possible. He could hear his mom watching TV, the muffled voices carrying into the bedroom. He groaned and tried to block the voices with his pillow. It helped for a moment, but then it became too awkward to hold onto the pillow like that and he had to turn. 

Time passed and the shadows on the walls moved, stripes of light painted by the blinds stretching across the room until they disappeared completely. At one point he stopped feeling cold and started sweating instead and was forced to throw off his covers.

Marik needed to get up to go to the bathroom and it took all of his will to roll to his other side and to slide off the bed. The world shifted around him when he got to his feet, making his head spin. Marik grabbed the extra blanket and cocooned himself into it like it was a cape before stumbling out of the bedroom. 

The house smelled like reheated lasagna, coffee and cigarettes, the smell was strong enough to penetrate Marik’s sluggishness. The noises from the television were louder out here. Thankfully it only took two steps to get from the small, shared bedroom to the bathroom. 

It was nothing like the clean and almost sterile bathroom of the Bakura residence. Marik’s mom’s bathroom was just like the rest of the house, small and cramped full of stuff. Bottles of half finished shampoos and hair products, magazines wrinkled by dampness, dirty surfaces and even dirtier floor. It was nothing like Ryou’s place.

He supposed that was a blessing. 

Marik didn’t like the person looking at him through the mirror. He looked almost like his old man after a night of drinking now, hair flopping down listlessly around his face, glued to his skin by sweat. It made him feel sick to see the man in the mirror, made his stomach churn twice as bad. He had to force his head to turn, to look away and pretend like he couldn’t see it. Pretend like he didn’t know where his life was headed. 

Once he was done, Marik washed his hands and splashed water to his face. The cool water felt good against his hot and sweaty brow and for a moment Marik just stood by the sink and pressed his hands against his face. He took care not to look himself in the mirror when he dried himself off to a paper-thin towel. 

He should have probably guessed that running through the flooding streets and then refusing to remove his wet clothes was going to do nothing good for his already sore throat. Figured that it had just made things worse and now he had fever. But it wasn’t like he’d been thinking clearly last night anyway. And what did it matter? Marik deserved this, it was just his karma getting back to him. When his head was sick, shouldn’t his whole body suffer as well? 

The thought made him chuckle breathlessly. If that was the case, he should have been physically ill all through his life.

He threw the towel off and stalked out of the bathroom, planning to drag his heavy carcass back into bed and stay there until he either felt like a human being again or he died. Marik nearly ran over his mother who had been waiting for him outside. 

She looked up at him without really seeing anything, tired bags under her glassy eyes. 

“You’re sick,” she rasped. 

Marik nodded wordlessly. He didn’t even have it in him to look at the woman who allowed him to live under her roof. She could see it too, right? Who he was growing up to be? Why didn’t she just kick him out?

“You should be in bed.”

Another nod. She was probably right. He didn’t make a move to walk back into the bedroom, though. Neither of them said anything and Marik felt his eyes starting to sting again. His ribcage felt too small for his lungs. No matter how hard he tried to drown it out, he couldn’t stop a lone sob from escaping his mouth. He covered his mouth with his hand, cursing his existence to the deepest pits of hell. But the sob was out and it seemed to startle his poor old mother. The woman flinched and looked up at him. Her eyes sharpened and for the first time in forever she actually looked at him. Marik had to turn away. 

“…Sorry,” he muttered and dragged his sweaty palm over his mouth. Without another word he forced his feet to carry him back into the bedroom where he fell onto his mattress, pulling his covers over his head so that he could at least pretend like he wasn’t crying. 

Marik hadn’t even realized that his mother had followed in after him until he could feel the mattress sinking down under the weight of another human. A cool hand reached to pull at the blanket, revealing his head. She rested her hand on his forehead, a wonderfully cool sensation on his burning skin. 

The touch was surprising. His mother looked uncertain and her hands wavered a little. Yet all Marik could do was turn his back to the woman in a pathetic attempt at hiding his tears.

But his mother didn’t leave. The hand that had touched his head was now on his back, moving in slow, uneven circles. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes. Marik wasn’t sure if either of them even knew what they should say. They had been silent for far too long, they hadn’t exchanged more than a few words since after Marik’s return from Egypt. Now that he thought about it, they hadn’t talked much back even when dad had been alive. Too much time had passed and now they didn’t know what to say. 

Marik started crying louder, sobbing pitifully like a little kid, gross and wet cries making his whole bed shake. And his mother just sat there, rubbing his back in silence. And to be honest, that was probably the best thing she could have done at the moment. 

“I fucked up,” Marik cried. “I ruined it, I ruined it real bad.”

His mother let out a soft coo, rubbing circles to his back. Marik turned around, looking up at her, seeing a look he hadn’t seen there in years. 

Love. 

His face crumpled and he hid it in his mother’s lap, letting her soothe him. He felt so pathetic, so sorry, so terrible. But his mother was there, humming silently, her voice almost too quiet to be heard. And for a moment it felt a little better. 

“What happened, Marik?” she asked, running her hands through his hair with slow and careful strokes, somehow avoiding tangles there. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Marik sobbed softly, his cries dying down to quiet mewls. He didn’t even think about it, think if he should just keep it to himself and not bother his mother about his problems. He just started talking, spilling it all out, starting from the very beginning and telling her all about the ill-fated relationship with Ryou. And she just listened. Never stopped rubbing his back or combing his hair, humming softly. Her clothes smelled like sweat and cigarettes and it felt so safe. 

“He hates me now,” he whimpered. “I… I broke his trust. He hates me.”

His mother said nothing to deny this. She didn’t agree with it either, but her wordless comfort was all Marik could wish for at the moment. It was all he had and he was so fucking grateful for it. He dug his fingers into the scratchy fabric of her sweater, too afraid to let go, as if this was just going to turn out to be some sort of feverish hallucination his brain had cooked up for him. 

All he could do now was to sniffle and wait it out.


	20. Chapter 20

Marik could hear his mother talking to the phone in the kitchen, her words muffled and quiet. He couldn’t have made out the words she was speaking even if he had tried, but at the moment his mother’s social life was the last of his concerns. 

He’d been sick for three days and spent two more at home, pretending like he was still feeling too ill to go. Now he was sitting in his mother’s living room, trying to tell himself to get going if he wanted to go to school at all. 

He didn’t. Going to school and having to face his fuck-up wasn’t something he wanted to do. But he’d skipped two days without a good reason already. Might as well go back and get it done, right?

Wrong. His stomach was churning and turning, making him feel sick all over again. His mother had returned from her shift maybe ten minutes ago, meaning that he should have left already. But here he was. Sitting. 

Anxiety was welling in his stomach, making his guts feel like they were on fire. Every minute spent sitting still was making it worse, but the thought of moving wasn’t helping either. He was rooted to his spot, trying to keep his breathing even and failing spectacularly. Anxiety brought with it anger and anger was only going to make things worse for him. 

No. He needed to get going. 

Marik rose to his feet, unsteady and uncertain. He reached to grab his bag, stumbling towards the front door with little enthusiasm. His mother’s voice followed him to the stairway, echoing quietly around him. 

The rain had continued through the whole weekend before finally moving on. Now the sun was shining again and it felt like an insult to Marik and the mood he was in. It was like nothing at all was wrong, when in actuality everything was shit. 

He arrived half an hour late to his history class, telling a flimsy lie to the teacher about forgetting to set his alarm and sleeping in. The teacher gave his obligatory scolds, but didn’t seem to care too much and Marik settled onto his seat. 

Marik had planned how he was going to deal with the situation while he’d been at home pretending to be sick. He’d come up with a strategy to carry him through. It was a shit one and he didn’t like his chances of succeeding, but it was all he got. He was planning on taking a page out of Bakura Ryou’s book and avoiding the crap out of him. 

A genius plan, wasn’t it? Too bad it made him feel like a little coward. He’d done wrong and he should have been facing the consequences. But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to find out what was going to happen once he would inevitably run into Ryou. He was probably going to tell Marik how disgusted he was by his actions and how he never wanted to see him again. Or worse yet, maybe Ryou would say nothing, letting his expressions do the talking. It was better to avoid Ryou than to have him tell Marik to never get close to him again. 

The stupid thing was that Marik realized how twisted his logic was, but as long as he had some resemblance of control over the situation, his mind didn’t dissolve into complete chaos. He didn’t want to see Ryou looking at him with fear and loathing again, so he would rather avoid Ryou himself. Save them both some trouble. 

So Marik did his best to pay attention to his schoolwork. He made it through the history class with some effort, actually managed to take notes, even though how legible his writing was could be questioned. Next up was chemistry, another struggle that he somehow managed to survive. But the pressure in his gut would not ease. When Marik left the classroom, he was on the edge, fearing the moment he would spot a hint of white in the corridor. 

Avoiding Ryou should have been an easy endeavor. Marik had the advantage over him in that he knew the classes Ryou took and the routes he took to get there thanks to his stalking, so steering clear should have been a piece of cake. 

But when coming up with his plan, Marik had not thought to take the Friendship Gang into consideration. 

He was on his way to avoid the cafeteria on his lunch hour, when he noticed Mazaki coming towards him. The girl hadn’t noticed him and he hadn’t planned on stopping to have a chat with her either, so he just continued walking past her. Just when he was about to pass her, though, Mazaki spotted him and stopped on her tracks. Marik gave her a half-hearted glare before picking up his pace. He didn’t get far, though. 

“Hey! Ishtar!”

For fuck’s sake. He stopped and turned to face her. 

“What?” he growled, hands curled into fists at his sides. 

“Ryou was looking for you,” Mazaki said, arms crossed and hips cocked to the side. “He wants to talk to you.”

Marik’s heart picked up a faster beat, his insides twisting painfully like an invisible hand had suddenly clutched a hold on his stomach. He was pretty sure his panic was showing on his face as well. He hid it with a scowl, growling in faked annoyance. 

“Whatever,” he said and moved to keep on walking. 

Mazaki tried to grab hold of his arm with an annoyed: “Hey!” but Marik wrenched free. 

“Don’t touch me, bitch.”

Her eyes grew large and shone with righteous fury. She looked just about ready to chew his ear off for insulting her, but Marik didn’t stay to wait it out. He hurried to put some distance between them, scared that she might somehow magically pull Ryou out of her pocket to look at him disappointedly or something. 

He made it past lunch and the next class with winning colors. Whenever he thought he caught a glimpse of that white hair, he got the fuck out of dodge, taking another route to his destination. He thought it smart to arrive to his classes on the last possible minute just in case Ryou would remember some of them and wait for him outside the classroom. 

It worked fine. Until it didn’t. 

When Marik was on his way to the last lesson of the day, he spotted the Friendship Gang huddled up in the corridor on his way to the classroom. And there, with them, a familiar head of white hair.

Marik froze on his spot. Ryou was spending time with his old friends again. That hurt more than Marik would have liked to admit. Maybe Ryou was so scared of him now that he sought out the comfort of his old buddies. 

It stung. 

No. He was reading too much into it. He had no right to be angry about it, Marik tried to reason. Didn’t help much, though. His head was starting to hurt. Ryou could do whatever he wanted with his time, and if that meant hanging out with friends that didn’t seem to care that he had gotten beat up, then that was his choice. Marik’s teeth hurt from the force he was putting on them. 

He should have just turned around and walked away. That’s what he should have been doing. Instead he stood completely still. He couldn’t move a muscle. And he stayed long enough for one of the losers to spot him. 

Of course it had to be Mutou. Who else? The pipsqueak’s eyes grew large and he jumped at the sight of him. Mutou didn’t waste any time grabbing a hold of Ryou’s sleeve and pulling at it. 

Shit. 

And suddenly he knew how to move again. Turning on the feels of his shoes, he decided to get as far away as possible. His head was aching something awful. Needed to get away, needed to leave the school and hope that maybe nothing would come out of this. 

“Ishtar!”

Ryou had seen him. The bottom of Marik’s stomach fell off and his insides with it, leaving a hollow feeling behind. He picked up his pace, shoving his way past people.

“Ishtar, wait!”

No, no, no, no. Panic was filling him, climbing up his throat and trying to drown out reason. And when feelings got out of hand, Marik Ishtar knew only one way to respond. 

Anger. 

“Mar– “

“What the hell do you want?” he shouted, turning around to glower at his persistent follower.

Ryou slid to a halt half a step away from Marik, eyes growing large and pulling his bag between them like a shield. He looked surprised that Marik had raised his voice at him. Well, he shouldn’t be. Ryou should have known that Marik was unpredictable and not the best person to be around by now.

“I just… I…” Ryou stammered, the little color he had had on his cheeks draining away. 

“Spit it out, or leave me alone!”

People were staring. They were making a scene and if there was something these students craved for in their boring stupid lives, it was drama. Marik could feel their stares sinking into his flesh, prodding and pulling like hooks under his skin. He growled out loud, turning to look at them. 

“What the fuck are you looking at?” he roared at them, sending students stumbling back with his outburst. 

A tentative hand tried to reach for his arm, maybe to pull him away from the hapless students, but the moment Marik saw it, he pulled back violently. Last time Ryou had touched him hadn’t ended well for either of them. 

“Don’t touch me,” he hissed and pushed his hands into his pockets. 

The look on Ryou’s face was absolutely terrifying. He looked like he was about to cry and it made Marik feel like shit. 

Well, that was how it was supposed to feel, right?

Ryou was opening and closing his mouth like he wanted to say something, but there were no words coming out. Clearly this was not going as either of them would have wanted. 

Marik knew just the way to fix it. 

“I’m leaving.”

“No! Wait, Ishtar! Shouldn’t we talk about last Friday?”

Fear coursed through Marik’s body and momentarily it drowned out his anger. Momentarily. People were whispering. 

“Nothing happened last Friday!” he shouted. 

Ryou’s eyes widened even more and he dropped his gaze to the ground. 

“Oh,” he said. “I… of course. Right.”

It didn’t seem like Ryou was going to say anything more, his voice quieting until his last word was barely audible. Marik took that as his cue and left. 

He didn’t bother going to his last class or to the counselor he should have been meeting after school, leaving for home instead. His mother was already sleeping when he got there and the nervous energy in his body forced him to go out running until he was exhausted. He probably shouldn’t have been exercising this soon after being sick, but no one was going to stop him. He ran until his lungs were burning, then kept going and going until he felt like he was going to black out. When he got back home, he didn’t bother with his schoolwork. Instead he washed the sweat off, his whole body in tremors, before going to bed. Everything hurt, but pain gave clarity. It gave Marik a chance not to think about things. 

The next day wasn’t much better. Well, it was better since he didn’t run into Ryou. Whether it was because his evasion tactics were working or because Ryou was avoiding him now as well, he didn’t care. He was granted a little bit of relief and even though it wasn’t much, it was better than having to face his own mistakes. It wasn’t easy, not by a long shot. There was a heavy invisible weight on Marik’s shoulders and uncertainty was feeding his anger. He had started growling at people who got too close again, barking insults like a mad dog at everyone who dared to look his way. The teachers took notice of it, looking at him like he was the piece of human trash he had been before and the rumor mills started churning again. The punk was back to being himself. Of course, it had only been a matter of time. The only thing they were surprised by was how long it had taken for him to show his true colors again. 

Malik and Ishizu would have been ashamed of him. If he had called them and told them what was going on, that was. But he hadn’t. Who knew, maybe they had secretly been expecting this out of him as well. He could already hear the disappointment in their voices, telling him that surely he was doing the best he could and to not give up, while they themselves had already lost hope. Marik didn’t need to call them to hear it from their voices. 

At home, it got worse again. Marik tried to sit down at the table in the kitchen and get his homework done, but the words were nothing but blur under his eyes. The text was nothing but empty babble and even though he tried to make sense of the message, read the lines over and over again, nothing stuck to his head. And the more he tried and failed, the worse he felt. Sitting still became unreasonably hard, his thoughts were an unorganized mess and his hands started to tremble. 

Marik couldn’t sit still. His heart was beating painfully hard in his chest, filling his veins with a fire that demanded to be released. Marik grabbed a hold of his book and slung it off the table, throwing it against the wall where it fell onto the floor with a loud bang. He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at it, messing it up even more. But it didn’t help. Nothing ever did. He needed to get out of the house. He’d wake his mom up if he stayed like this, he’d start trashing the place if he didn’t leave right now. 

Out through the door, down the stairs and into the world outside. He didn’t care where he was going or what he was doing, but there was an uneasy energy within him, a boiling hot feeling that would not subside and he knew only one way to deal with it right now. 

If you were too exhausted to do anything, staying angry would be pretty hard. Not impossible, but at least he wouldn’t have enough energy left in him to break anything and that was always a plus. 

Marik wasn’t sure how long he ran or how far, not while he was on the move at least. But he must have made a few laps around the closest blocks at least, taking the alleys so he could stay out of the sight of most of the every day people leaving work to get home. He ran until he couldn’t anymore, ran until his feet hurt too much and he had to stop or he would fall. Marik leaned against a wall and breathed heavily. He thought he was going to pass out if he didn’t stop for a breather so instead of waiting to fall over, he sat down on the pavement and leaned against the wall behind his back. 

He had run into a narrow alleyway between two tall apartment buildings. He was deep enough to remain mostly hidden to any passers-by if he stayed still and the voices of the outside world sounded muffled to his ears. It was somehow safe there, calmer. The sun’s rays didn’t quite reach the area there, leaving Marik hidden in shades. 

He was safe here. 

Back before his trip to Egypt, Marik had rarely spent more time than a few hours at a time at his mom’s house. The longest he’d been there was when he wanted a roof over his head for the night, but otherwise whenever Marik had been able to, he’d just left and spent the time out instead. He’d hung out with a small group of people, not exactly friends but not a gang either. Just a collection of punks all of them, with their own axes to grind. They hadn’t really caused much damage, just the usual teenage rebelling, breaking windows, lighting a few dumpsters on fire, stealing stuff, car keying. Stupid shit like that. It hadn’t been the best time of his short life, but hey, it had been a million times better than staying at home. It had left a sort of mark on him, telling Marik that when he was out here, out of sight and in the dark, he was safe. 

It was stupid really. All of it. This situation Marik was in, his life so far and his future too. He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at the damp strands as if that was going to help him some. And it did, a little. It helped him calm down just a little more. 

He’d known it wouldn’t last. He’d known that sooner rather than later he would have to admit that the thing he had with Ryou was just temporary, a little bit of retrieve before the world decided to remind him he still had past deeds to repay. He’d known it. Didn’t mean he had to like it, though. And he really didn’t. He was miserable, he was angry and most of all, he was disappointed. 

Maybe Marik had been an idiot when he came back to Domino. Maybe that was the root of the problem. He had thought he could just come waltzing back and keep going to school. Try working hard and succeeding. That was where all of this had gone wrong, Marik thinking too much of his abilities. Maybe dropping out would have been the more sensible solution. 

And while on that note, he shouldn’t have returned to his mom’s house either. All he’d even been to the woman was a nuisance at best. A terror at worst. Marik would have done both of them a big favor had he not returned to her at all. 

Maybe he should just… leave. Leave Domino City and move somewhere else. Where to, he had no clue. But anywhere would be better than here, right? He could go somewhere where nobody knew him. Somewhere where he wouldn’t be bothering these people with his problems, where his mom wouldn’t have to tiptoe around him like she was afraid he was going to snap and do something, where the teachers wouldn’t have to look at him like he was something they found at the bottom of their shoe and where the students’ whispers couldn’t reach his ears. 

Somewhere were Bakura Ryou wouldn’t have to be afraid of him. 

Heh. Yeah. That was a nice thought. Marik’s hands stopped in his hair and gripped to his skull. Too bad it would never work. He had no money, no job, no connections. 

He was stuck here. 

Suddenly his pocket started to vibrate, sending jolts through his body. Marik reached in and pulled his phone out, staring blankly at the screen. 

His mom was calling. 

Weird. She was supposed to be sleeping right now. Worry started gnawing at Marik as he answered the phone. 

“Yeah?” he said, uncertainty clear for them both to hear. 

“Where are you, Marik?” his mother asked without preamble. She sounded more tired than usual, voice hoarse and tight.

Marik thought about it a moment. Why did she want to know? She didn’t care what he was doing with his life. He could not remember her calling to him like this ever before. 

“Went out running,” he said slowly. 

“Well, could you please come home?”

“Uh… Sure?”

“Good.” She hung up. 

Now he was really worried. What could be so important that his mom was awake at this hour? It couldn’t be the police, could it? Maybe, but he hadn’t done anything illegal lately, right? Not that he knew, anyway. But it still didn’t promise anything good. 

Marik squared his shoulders and breathed in deep. He held his breath a moment, then let it out, repeating the process. He didn’t want to leave his spot, didn’t want to go back out there. It would have been nice to just pretend like he hadn’t answered the phone in the first place and just sit there until the sun would set, his mom would have to leave for work and the house would be empty and silent again. 

Yeah. Would have been nice. He got up anyway and started to hobble back towards the house. His feet were aching now and his gait was labored and slow, but he was moving and that was what mattered.


	21. Chapter 21

In the end it turned out that it might have been better if Marik had just stayed in the alleyway. He started regretting his decision to leave almost immediately, but didn’t stop until the shabby apartment building his mom called home came to his sights. Things seemed quiet out there, there were a few tenants smoking outside, but Marik couldn’t see any police cars on the sidewalk or anything like that. So that was good. Marik stood outside the building for a few heartbeats, staring up at it. 

Anxiety was mulling in his stomach. He wasn’t sure why, wasn’t sure what to expect. It couldn’t be anything good, could it? Probably not. 

“You forgot your key or something, kid?” one of the smokers, a lower floor neighbor asked. 

Marik shook his head, both as an answer and as an attempt to clear it. He walked past them and into the dark lobby inside. Climbing the stairs to the right floor, Marik dug out his keys and let himself in. 

The first thing he noticed was the smell of coffee. He frowned a little. Coffee didn’t smell like an emergency. 

“I’m home,” he called uncertainly. The words tasted unfamiliar, uncomfortable in his mouth. Usually when he came home, his mom would be either sleeping or working, depending on the time of day. There was no need to announce his arrival. Marik squeezed onto his keys, the metal edges digging into the palm of his hand.

“Good,” his mom answered from the kitchen. “Come here for a sec.”

There was a light in the kitchen and Marik could see the woman standing there in her bathrobe with a coffee cup in her hand. She was looking at him with an unreadable expression that was honestly making him feel even more uncomfortable. Marik pushed they keys into the pocket of his hoodie and his hands followed after them, burrowing out of sight. He walked into the small kitchen and his eyes zeroed on the visitor immediately. 

Should have stayed out. Marik would have been better off in the streets than here. 

Bakura Ryou was looking all sorts of lost sitting in his mother’s kitchen. He looked even more pale than usual in the dead light of a fluorescent lamp, squirming on his seat with his hands on his lap. Marik couldn’t see them properly, but by the movements he could tell Ryou was twisting his fingers again. He was gnawing at his lip with such force he might break skin soon. 

Marik turned to look at his mother leaning against a wall with the coffee cup to her lips. She looked like she had been dragged out of her bed recently, with her hair a bigger mess than Marik’s and the dark circles under her eyes made worse by the bright light. She did not look happy. Not in the least. But there she was, sipping her coffee and looking between Marik and Ryou.

“What –? What the hell –?” Marik tried but failed to put words to his questions. Ryou looked out of place in his mother’s messy kitchen with his clean clothes and his hair neatly on a ponytail. He was sitting straight like he was too afraid to slouch down in case he touched something and the grime would stick. And he was staring. Ryou stared at Marik like he’d been caught off guard, like he was somewhere he knew he wasn’t supposed to be. 

He was staring at Marik like he was planning on saying some things Marik didn’t want to hear. 

Shit. _Shit!_ Should have just stayed out. Shouldn’t have answered the phone to begin with. It would have probably saved Marik a world of pain. But there was no running off now. He’d been caught, cornered and forced into it when he’d done his best to run. 

Because Ryou had followed him home. 

Had Marik not been so terrified, he might have seen the irony. 

“What the hell are you doing in here?” he finally managed to spit out. His voice wavered a little, but he managed to hide it by speaking as loud as he could without yelling. 

Ryou flinched a little and dropped his eyes to the table. His hands must have been close to breaking under that table with the way he was wrenching them. He looked down, them back at Marik, back down, at the wall behind Marik and then finally back at Marik. Ryou’s mouth was opening and closing like he was talking but someone had forgotten to switch off the mute setting. The stretching silence hung over them like a heavy blanket, suffocating everything and making Marik’s head hurt. 

“The boy came here ‘bout half an hour ago, looking for you,” Marik’s mom rasped. Marik turned to look at her. Her lips were nothing but a narrow line across her face. “Something about your tutoring?”

“Ah!” Ryou said, looking relieved. “Yes! Your tutoring! You missed our meeting on Wednesday, so I brought all the materials with me.” He leaned to pat his bag next to the table, rapid and jagged movements, forced glee. “I… I even asked around for people to give me notes from the days you were sick!”

Marik stared at him, unable to process this fully. No. No, that couldn’t be it. He could almost feel the lies seeping out of Ryou’s words. And yet there the guy was, sitting at his mother’s table, faking enthusiasm and smiling so wide it must have hurt. Marik could see Ryou’s eyes darting to his mother every now and then and his smile would falter. 

There was no escape out of this situation, was there? Marik was rooted to his spot like his feet had been welded onto the linoleum floor, neither able to walk further in nor run out of the building. Marik wasn’t even sure which he wanted to do more. In his head, thoughts were running into each other in their panic to produce a single coherent sentence, something to help him out of this. But there was nothing. Nothing but the clenching in his gut, the coiling feeling around his lungs. All Marik could do was stare at Ryou like he was expecting to wake up from this nightmare if he stared hard enough. 

Too much time had passed. Marik should have said something already and he hadn’t. Now it was awkward. The smile Ryou was putting on was wavering badly, his hands frozen in place while he waited for Marik to do something, do anything. But Marik couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. 

_Should have stayed out._

His mother cleared her throat, breaking the silence. She set down her empty cup on the counter before turning to look at them. 

“I can see when I’m not wanted in my own house,” she said. “I’ll go buy cigs.”

She walked past Marik and when she did, Marik could feel her hand on his arm for a second. She squeezed it shortly before continuing out of the kitchen and grabbed her jacket and keys on her way out. Before exiting the house, she shot a meaningful look at Marik. It didn’t help one bit and he had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but she was gone. She had left him alone in… this. Whatever the hell this was. And Marik was terrified. 

Unlike Ryou, apparently. His shoulders dropped a notch and the desperate smile vanished without a trace. He rubbed his hands over his face and drew in a heavy breath. Then he turned to look at Marik, answering his intense stare with an uncertain one of his own. 

“Uh,” Ryou said carefully. “You have a really nice house.”

“It’s a shithole,” Marik answered crassly. “What are you doing in here?”

Ryou swallowed visibly and looked around. His eyes stopped at the dirty countertop and skewed cupboards before turning back to the table. He waved his hand at the direction of his bag on the floor. “The school – “

“No,” Marik cut in. “You’re not here for school. You don’t know where I live.”

“Ah, yes, well about that,” Ryou said. He ran his hands over the table, splaying his fingers wide. “It wasn’t that hard to find your address, actually. I told your homeroom teacher about your tutoring and she – “

Marik’s fuse was burning short and he couldn’t stop his palms hitting against the table. Ryou pulled back from him, looking shocked. His mouth was left hanging open. 

“What the hell are you doing in my house?” Marik shouted. He shouted so hard the walls rang, he shouted so loud the neighbors at the farthest side of the building could probably hear. He shouted because he knew that if he didn’t, he would start crying. Marik was scared. He was so damn scared. He’d thought that maybe if he avoided Ryou, he wouldn’t have to hear this, hear Ryou say that they were no longer friends and inviting him to his home had been a mistake. But there was no running from his errors. Ryou had followed him home just so he could chew Marik up and spit him out. Marik slapped a hand over his mouth and turned around, pacing in what little room he had in the kitchen. 

He didn’t dare look at Ryou. 

“I’m sorry.”

Ryou’s voice was so small it almost went unheard. Marik’s thundering heartbeat saw to that. But he had always been tuned to whatever Ryou did and the words hit his heart like a blow bellow the belt. They forced Marik to stop walking back and forth, forced him to stop moving so he could turn to look at Ryou. 

He was staring at the table with a miserable look carved onto his face, hands clutched on his lap. 

“You…” Ryou said in a small voice. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

Yes. Yes he had. But admitting that would only make the situation worse, wouldn’t it? It would make it even more clear how guilty Marik was. He shifted weight from one foot to another. How bad would it be if he just turned around now and followed his mother’s steps? He could leave the house, leave the building and leave town. How bad could it be?

“I… I thought that maybe we should talk. You didn’t… No. Um… Hold on, let me think,” Ryou babbled, his hands twisting, fingers stretching the skin of his palms. He drew a shuddering breath and untangled the fingers so he could flatten them on the table. It felt like a declaration of intent, a mark that Ryou was about to spit out what he had actually come here for. 

“I wanted to talk about what happened on Friday.”

He’d known it. Marik had known it the moment he’d seen Ryou sitting there, looking so out of place. He’d known it, but didn’t want to think about it. And he sure as hell didn’t want to talk about it either. Marik set his jaw and looked past Ryou. With his arms crossed and fists tucked safely between his armpits, he felt like he had even some semblance of control. If not on the situation, then on his body at least. 

“Nothing happened on Friday,” he spoke through his teeth. 

“I know! You said,” Ryou squeaked. His eyes were so large they looked like they were about to fall right out of their sockets. “But… but don’t you think we should at least… try to work it out?”

“No,” Marik said stubbornly, digging his nails into his palms. The sting relieved some of the tension he was feeling. It was far from enough, though. “Should just forget about it. It was stupid.”

Ryou’s hands were trembling on the table and when he noticed it, he pulled them back under. He wasn’t twisting them, though. Ryou was holding onto his chair for dear life, like trying to stop the shaking. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. 

There it was again. The apology. It stung, it hurt and it dug right into Marik’s flesh. Ryou wasn’t the one who was supposed to be apologizing. No, that was supposed to be Marik’s job right now. He was the one who’d done wrong and therefore he should be the one saying the words. But when the perfect opportunity came to spit it out, he couldn’t do it. The apology was stuck in his throat, lodged in there so hard he could feel it when he swallowed. So instead of speaking the magic words, Marik clamped down, shut his mouth and stared at the dirty linoleum floor under his feet. 

Ryou must have been so afraid. He must have feared that Marik would turn on him if he didn’t apologize, that Marik would go back to being the asshole he’d been before. And now he’d come groveling like he thought he needed to do that to remain on Marik’s good side. 

Of course. 

Of course. 

“Nothing to apologize,” he said. “Is fine.” His voice felt wrong. Or maybe it was just the words. 

“So…” Ryou started slowly, leaning towards Marik. “We’re… okay? We can go back to the usual?”

“Yeah,” Marik said, though there wasn’t much feeling behind that one. He could tell that Ryou noticed it too, but said nothing. 

Silence fell over them, as heavy and suffocating as before. Ryou sat at Marik’s mother’s table, back straight and arms on the surface before him. Neither of them said anything, but both of them acted like they were expecting the other to speak up. 

“So, anyway,” Ryou said a bit shakily, reaching for his bag. “I did bring you the notes like I said I did. It was more like an excuse to get to see your home, but…” He laughed uncomfortably and Marik hated it. Ryou was trying so hard to sound bright and happy when he so clearly hated being in Marik’s dirty and tiny house, trapped in a small kitchenette with Marik. He hated how clearly uncomfortable Ryou was in his presence. 

He had hoped that they’d already gotten past this problem. But now it was even worse than before. 

Ryou pulled out a neat stack of papers from his folder and handed them out for Marik. Marik grabbed them, making sure that he didn’t touch the other boy even by accident, folded the papers and dropped them on the counter behind them. 

“But I do like your home,” Ryou said, scrambling for conversation topics. “It’s… it’s cozy.”

“It’s small,” Marik said. “Cheap. Dirty. You don’t have to lie about my mom’s house.”

“I wasn’t… I wasn’t lying,” Ryou said quietly, but the look in his eyes spoke otherwise. 

Another heavy silence coated them, curling around Marik’s neck and squeezing, making sure not a single syllable made it out. 

“Maybe… Maybe I should go,” Ryou said carefully, pulling his bag closer to his body. 

Marik nodded in agreement, wordlessly begging they were done with this already. He swallowed with a bit of trouble, trying to get his voice working again. 

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” he forced the words out.

He walked Ryou to the door, where the white haired teen put his jacket back on and turned to look at Marik. 

“We are still… friends, right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Marik said unconvincingly, managing to fool neither of them. 

“Good.” Ryou didn’t sound that convincing either. He turned to open the door, walking out. But before Marik could slam the door closed between them, he turned around again, looking at Marik with those big brown eyes of his. Marik froze on his spot, mesmerized by them. Ryou almost looked like he was pleading with him, silently begging for Marik to do… something. But Marik didn’t have the slightest idea what that something might have been. 

“Don’t come back here,” he said gruffly. 

Ryou let out a meek unintelligible sound. 

“My mom works night shifts. You probably woke her up when you came here,” he continued, trying to soften his words just a little. They were friends again. Talking normally should be an easy feat. 

“Okay,” Ryou said in a small voice. “Maybe we just… hang out at school, then?”

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea either. Marik bit down onto his tongue, trying to think before he spoke. 

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “Whatever.”

“Okay,” Ryou repeated, his voice even smaller than before. He shuffled his feet a little, looking down at his bag instead of Marik. “I’ll… I’ll see you at school?”

“Yeah,” Marik answered and swung the door shut between them.


	22. Chapter 22

“You should talk to him about it,” Malik said. 

“Already did,” Marik muttered. “It’s fine now.”

Malik didn’t even have to bother with an answer to let Marik know he didn’t believe it one bit. The line was silent while the faraway cousin tried to pressure Marik into speaking first.

Malik would have to wait a long time if he wanted that to work. 

It hadn’t been Marik calling his cousin this time. It seemed like the prolonged silence from his side had made the faraway Ishtars worry. Malik had tried to call him a few times before, but Marik hadn’t answered. And now that he had made the effort to get things back on track, he was disappointed to find that hearing Malik’s words hadn’t magically fixed all of his problems. It just felt like his cousin was making things worse. 

“Okay. Fine,” Malik grumbled. “If you think this is how you want it to be, then there isn’t really much I can do to help you with it. But I think we both know that it’s not how it is. And the way you’re telling me Ryou’s acting, I don’t think he wants this either.”

“Yeah, well, that’s too bad,” Marik muttered, clutching the phone in his hands with enough force to hurt. He was lying on his back on his bed, holding onto the phone for dear life. Malik’s words weren’t doing what he wanted and only seemed to make him angrier. And it wasn’t like things were going to turn out better soon anyway. Tomorrow was going to be Monday, Marik would have to go back to school and the weekend hadn’t been enough to clear his head much to his disappointment. He’d be seeing Ryou again. How was he supposed to act now?

Marik wanted to keep avoiding him. Wanted to keep his distance. But they were friends, right? Ryou had said so. It meant he still had a chance. So that meant they should try to get back into their old pattern, their old norm. 

He wasn’t sure how that was going to work out, though. Not after what had happened. Not only had Ryou lost his faith in him, but Marik had lost his as well. He knew the truth now and it stung. He could try, try and try, but there was no changing the facts. He was doomed to grow up to be like his dad and the more he struggled, the more it hurt when the inevitable would come to pass. And how was he supposed to keep his life going with a load as heavy as that on his back? 

The answer was that he wasn’t. He couldn’t. Marik was a ball of nervous energy, anxiety and anger. And he didn’t think he was going to make it. No matter how bad he wanted for things to go back like they’d been, some things just couldn’t be fixed. 

But what could he do? What else was there but trying to go back to normal? There was nothing else left. So all Marik could do was try to act like nothing had ever happened, like he’d done before. Deny everything. 

“You can’t keep avoiding this,” Malik said, like he had read Marik’s mind. “You know that, right? You can’t act like it was nothing if it still bothers you. That shit piles up. You _know_ it does.”

Yeah. He knew it. Keeping his rage under the wraps had never brought him anything good. So it made only sense that other things would work alike as well. Marik knew it in theory. 

That didn’t mean he knew what to do about it, though. 

“It’s just that…” he started, failing to put it to words how it felt. Ryou hated him now. He hated _himself_ but there was nothing new about that. They’d gotten so far, the two of them, on empty promises and misplaced faith. And it was tearing Marik apart how Ryou had acted when he’d made that surprise visit, tiptoeing around Marik like he thought his former bully was going to bite him. They had gone from friendship back to what it had been like before, but kind of worse. Before there had been hope that things would get better since Marik had changed and all he needed to do was to prove that to Ryou. But now the other boy knew it. Ryou knew Marik had changed and even still he had screwed up. There was nothing left to prove. Marik had been hanging by a thread and now that thread had been cut. 

“Just… just please talk to him, Marik?” Malik begged. “Please? It won’t even take that long, just catch him by the sleeve at school or something. You can even write some words down, make it easier for yourself. I’m just worried that this is going to end badly for you if you two don’t talk.”

Marik breathed in a sigh and held it, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t say what he was thinking, wasn’t even sure he would have been able to put it to words. He didn’t care anymore. And he was pretty sure Malik could tell if the desperation in his words was anything to go by. 

“I’ll give it a try,” he said, convincing neither of them. 

He didn’t sleep well that night. The nightmares wouldn’t let him. Marik would manage to fall asleep only to wake up sweating, the aftertaste of his dreams still fresh in his mouth. Blood and alcohol. Bile, but that might have been his own doing. When his phone started blaring at seven to tell him to get up and get going, he almost threw it. He must have slept some. Maybe three hours, maybe less. Surely he must have slept more. 

Didn’t feel like it. 

Marik had skimmed through the notes Ryou had left for him, halfheartedly trying to catch up time missed, but it wasn’t helping. The words had turned into scramble in his head and he’d just gotten mad about it and thrown the whole stack to trash on Saturday. Come Sunday, the notes had appeared back on the kitchen counter, a bit ruffled but neatly stacked. Marik’s mother had given him a somewhat guarded but pointed look so he knew who to blame. 

Well, whether he was up to speed to his schoolwork or not, half asleep or awake, Marik couldn’t skip school. He was already behind, he couldn’t afford to lose more ground. So he forced himself out of the bed, packed his things and left. By the time he was out of the house and down the stairs, his head was already hurting and the day promised nothing but bad news. 

Just on his way out of the building, he ran into his mother. The woman looked like the world was on her shoulders and that she could use some rest too. There was a half-done cigarette between her fingers and an air of stress around her. Noticing her son, she nodded. 

“Have a good day,” she croaked. 

Marik stopped and nodded. She offered him a smile and a squeeze on his arm. 

“Thanks, mom,” he said quietly, nearly inaudibly. 

Things had been pretty tense before Marik’s departure to Egypt. Back then he’d barely seen his mother. He hadn’t stayed much at home, granted, but when he’d been there, his mother had done her very best to avoid him. They had not spoken to each other that much. If they could help it, they wouldn’t even look at each other. 

It had always been like that. Even more so back when the old man had still been alive. That man had been a nightmare and a half. He had been a drunkard and a violent one. Marik had started avoiding home from a very young age, knowing that if he got home when his dad had been nursing a bottle, he would either get beat up or he would come home only to find his mom battered and crying. So whenever he would run into the streets, it would be better than whatever he’d left behind at home. 

And from what Marik had heard, Malik’s dad hadn’t been much better. Instead of a drunk, he had been a religious freak. Not much of an improvement. Maybe it ran in the family. 

Marik trudged through his day, one step at a time. Being away for a few days shouldn’t have been that big of a step-back, but Marik was starting to get frustrated with school again. He couldn’t listen to the teachers, their words became an infuriating drone at the back of his mind. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate on anything, and the harder it became, the angrier Marik got. 

But he reined it in. He concentrated on his breathing, tried to keep his mind clear. He focused on tapping his foot instead of the toxic thoughts in his head. And by some miracle, he managed to keep everything cool for the first half of the day. Marik considered it a small victory, even though his tense muscles were feeding the ache in his head. 

During the lunch break, Ryou came to sit with him. It was… not good. Marik had been sitting by himself, minding his own business and trying not to pay mind to the other students and the whispers and looks they had started throwing his way again. He had thought he’d gotten past this. But apparently his actions lately hadn’t improved his standings in their eyes. 

But all the same, Ryou came to sit across from him by the table. He had this odd look about him. He was sitting up straight, looking stubborn. He set his tray on the table so that he could sit in front of Marik. 

Marik pulled back and gave him a wordless greeting. 

“How was your weekend?” Ryou asked with faked cheerfulness that rang so forced it hurt. 

“ ‘S fine,” Marik muttered to his food. 

“Mine wasn’t that great. I’ve hit a snag with my current Monster World build and I just can’t get over it. I’ve been thinking about asking Yugi for help. He knows a little about the game, so maybe he could give me some ideas.”

Marik tried focusing on chewing his food, but it tasted like ash in his mouth. Every word Ryou spew out was laced with desperation. He was forcing conversation out like he was afraid what would happen if there’d be silence. 

To be honest, Marik was afraid of that as well. 

“It’s kind of funny to be working on it since I don’t actually have anyone to play it with right now, but it’s a hobby, you know?” He was drumming his fingers on the table between them, eyes flitting around. “Maybe I should go back to the campaign and rewrite some of it. That could be part of the problem.” The fork in his left hand was trembling slightly, clattering against his tray. Marik wasn’t sure if Ryou noticed it. His fingers were white with strain around it, leaving the digits even paler than usual. “Have you… have you ever played Monster World?”

Marik shook his head. 

“Would you – “

“I don’t give a fuck about your stupid game.”

The words got out before Marik could even process them properly. They were out and he couldn’t take them back. Ryou’s eyes were large and his mouth hung open, unfinished words forgotten. All he seemed to be able to do was stare at Marik like he’d personally offended him.

And he kind of had. 

Ryou woke up from his haze, shook his head and turned his eyes down quickly. 

“Of course,” he said. “Of course, sorry. I didn’t mean to… I didn’t…” His voice fell away into a whisper. 

Now Marik’s hands were trembling as well. He was trying to force them to stay still on the table, but it wasn’t working at all. He couldn’t… He didn’t… Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut? He _did_ care, he _was_ interested in Ryou’s hobbies and he would have loved nothing more than to let Ryou teach him how to play Monster World. But he couldn’t say that now, could he? Marik couldn’t even open his mouth without spitting ugly words. He hit his fist against his tray, spilling out his lunch and making the whole table sway. Ryou flinched and looked at him like Marik had hit him instead of the table. Marik gathered up his tray and the unfinished food and dumped his lunch into garbage. He wasn’t going to be able to finish it anyway. 

It didn’t get better after that. It just didn’t. A week passed with no changes, Marik’s head felt like it was always full of concrete, thinking was becoming harder and harder and the words spoken to him just went through his ears leaving nothing behind. Ryou stopped coming to eat with him and they were avoiding each other in the hallways. Sometimes Ryou would approach him in the school, looking like he wanted to say something, but he always seemed to change his mind. 

Talk to him, talk to him, talk to him, was all Malik seemed to be able to say anymore when they spoke to each other, so Marik stopped answering his calls again. Sometimes he’d catch his phone ringing and Malik’s name would blink on the screen, but all he’d do was turn the phone off until he was sure that his cousin had given up for the day. 

But Marik still walked Ryou home every day. He had a job to do and he was going to do it, whether it was making him uncomfortable or not.

And it was. It was making him extremely uncomfortable. There had been no sign of those guys from before, their walks were dull and eventless and they only served to feed the anxiety in Marik’s gut. Should he even be there anymore? Would it be better if he just stopped? But that would sever the last connection he had to Ryou. It would be all over after that. But looking at Ryou on their way to his home, Marik could tell he was feeling uneasy as well. Marik’s mere presence was making him jumpy, his hands twisting and turning. Ryou never said anything about it, never asked Marik to just go home and leave him be, but Marik worried it might have been out of fear. 

He didn’t dare question it. Didn’t dare to sway the delicate balance. It was like trying to walk on a trapeze over a deep, dark abyss. One word would be all that it took to send him falling. It would take so little to bring the things to an end. 

And one day, it was over. 

It had been an awful day. Marik had almost snapped at a teacher for berating his unfinished homework. He’d been boiling on the inside from the very moment he woke up. The walk hadn’t been that much better and even though his insides had been twisted into a pretzel, Marik had managed to trudge through it with some struggle. 

When he’d been trailing Ryou in secret back in the beginning of the school year, there had been this physical distance between them. But now they were walking side by side and Marik had never felt further apart. They were keeping a careful distance between them, an arms length away from each other at all moments. Ryou was staring straight ahead, while Marik chose his spot on the pavement beneath his feet. The silence was crushing. Not that they’d ever really had that much to talk about. They didn’t have much in common. 

Maybe this had been doomed from the start. 

Marik frowned. Yeah. There were no “maybes” about it. His shoulders sagged down and his whole body felt like it weighed far more than it should have. He was exhausted from a whole day of being angry.

The fresh new asphalt turned into gravel beneath him when they arrived at Ryou’s apartment building and finally Marik dared to lift his eyes up. Instead of looking at the boy next to him, though, he sized up the building. It had looked intimidating before, but now…

Now it looked like it might just collapse on him. And he would have welcomed the crumbling concrete like an old friend. 

Ryou noticed him staring and cleared his throat. 

“Would you…” he started uncertainly. 

Marik dropped his gaze down immediately, digging his hands deeper into his pockets as if hoping that they would get swallowed and he’d end up pulled inside with them. He was scared what would happen next.

“Would you like to come up with me?” Ryou finished. 

He sounded so uncertain, so scared. And Marik couldn’t really blame him, not after how he’d lunged at the poor guy the last time he’d been there. He wasn’t sure why Ryou even wanted to invite him in. Maybe he thought he owed Marik something for the protection. Maybe he was too afraid to even suggest putting some distance between them in fear of retaliation. Maybe he thought Marik was going to go berserk and beat him up. Marik wouldn’t have been surprised. He dug the tip of his shoe into the gravel underneath, kicking tiny rocks around. 

“Can’t. I’m… I’m real busy today, so…” he said to his shoes. 

From the corner of his eyes he could see Ryou standing a few paces away. He didn’t say anything for a moment and Marik didn’t want to lift his eyes from the ground to see what expression he was wearing. It was better to just leave it be, nothing he could see there would make the situation any better. 

Ryou didn’t say anything to that. Not for a while at least. They just stood there awkwardly, unsure what to be, unsure what to _do_. Marik was waiting for the perfect moment to leave, but he was pretty sure that had been about fifteen minutes ago. 

“Okay,” Ryou said quietly, a little dejectedly even. Was he relieved? Marik honestly couldn’t tell. “What… what about tomorrow, then? Are you free then?”

“Nah, I… I don’t…” he started. Marik licked his teeth and sighed deeply. “Don’t think that’s such a good idea. You know. After last time.”

He’d managed to force the words out, managed to acknowledge the elephant in the room and it had hurt. Marik’s stomach was churning, but he’d said them anyway. Something had needed to be said. He wanted Ryou to know that he was safe, that Marik wasn’t going to break his boundaries again or anything, but he just couldn’t get the right words out. So he had to make do with what he got. 

“Oh,” Ryou said, even more quiet than before. 

The only sound in Marik’s ears was his own beating heart and the traffic not far off. 

“Maybe we… maybe we should take a little break from this?” Ryou said. It sounded more like a question than a statement, but with him it was sometimes hard to tell. 

“A break from what?” Marik asked, lifting his head just a little so he could see what Ryou was doing. 

“You know,” he said silently, moving his feet around, kicking off tiny pebbles. “This?” Ryou pointed his finger between them. “Things are a little… strained… right now. Maybe we should take a little break. You don’t… you don’t have to walk me home anymore.”

Marik felt like the bottom of his stomach had just fallen off. He couldn’t breathe properly, he couldn’t think. His head was clouding and thoughts were muddling down into a big mess he couldn’t understand. 

“I mean, I haven’t seen those men anymore after what… happened. So maybe it’d be alright,” Ryou continued, voice high-pitched and uncertain. “It’s fine. If you want to. We can just… leave it for a while, right?”

Right. Yes. Probably a good idea. Marik couldn’t say it, though. Didn’t want to. He had ruined everything and it was all slipping out of his reach in a pace he couldn’t keep up with. The more he tried to hold on, the further it slipped. Everything he had worked for with Ryou was breaking down and it was all because he hadn’t been able to keep his stupid urges in check. 

It was over. No more invites to tea. No more walks back to Ryou’s house. Marik stared down at the ground, eyes stinging. 

He should just break it all off now. It wouldn’t hurt as much in the long run, he reckoned. 

“Should stop the tutoring as well,” Marik said, and the words charred his throat with their poison. There were no take backs. This was it, then. His head dipped back down to stare at the ground where it was safe and nothing could hurt him. He was so freaking afraid to look up to see what Ryou’s expressions would tell. If it was relief, he would die then and there. “So you won’t feel like it’s an unfair trade.”

“I wouldn’t think that’s – “ Ryo fell quiet and Marik could hear him dragging his feet on the ground. “I mean… If you want to. But don’t you think you… don’t you think you still need tutoring?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, hands hanging limp at his sides. “But it’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine. None of this was fine. But since neither of them could look each other in the eye, they couldn’t see it. For a painfully long moment they just stood there, not looking at each other. Until Marik decided it was too much. 

“I’ll go now,” he said, turning his back on Ryou. 

The other boy didn’t say anything. If Marik had turned to look at him, he would have seen him crying.


	23. Chapter 23

What was the point of even going to school anymore? Marik sure as hell couldn’t think of a reason. Every minute spent inside the walls of Domino High made him feel trapped, he couldn’t breathe properly while trapped between the walls and it wasn’t doing wonders to his temper. The students and teachers were cornering him with their looks and whispers, Marik could hear the teachers talking about him and it was… it didn’t…

He couldn’t think straight. They pushed and pushed so Marik started lashing out again. The students made way to him again, stumbling over each other to stay out of his way. And it was suffocating. It was slowly killing Marik’s will to even try. 

So he stopped going. When his mother came home for the day, he would grab his backpack and pretend like he was going to school, but instead he would wander the streets. 

He tried to get in contact with the people he’d hung out before and did spend a few days with familiar delinquents, but it just wasn’t the same anymore. _He_ wasn’t the same. He got into fights, got beat up and beat the others back, but it had no feeling behind it. So Marik just wandered. Sometimes he ran. Anything to keep the thoughts at bay. It wasn’t easy and it wasn’t easing the feeling of guilt in his gut either, but it was better than some of the alternatives. 

Maybe he _should_ reconsider leaving Domino. Coming back here had clearly been a mistake. Everything had just gone to shit anyway and admitting that was probably the first step to getting out. But where could he go? Egypt came to mind, he had felt more welcome there than anywhere else. But that would have meant admitting to Malik, Ishizu and Rishid that he had fucked up and stopped trying. It would mean disappointing them after all the trouble they had gone through to get Marik back on his feet. And he didn’t want that. Marik didn’t want to end up living in the corners of their home, a constant burden and a disappointment. 

To live alone, he needed to job, he needed money and a roof over his head. None of those would just appear for him without any effort. And with his school record and unsociable behavior, getting a job anywhere was going to be hard.

Marik was stuck here. There was no escape.

“ _What is it that_ you _want to do?_ ” Ishizu would have asked. 

What did Marik want? Many things. None of them were achievable anymore. He’d fucked up pretty much everything now. His school career was in ruins, he wasn’t talking to Malik anymore and things with Ryou…

Yeah. What he wanted didn’t matter anymore. 

Marik got away with skipping school for a week and a half before he got caught. He was surprised anyone cared enough to notice, but apparently his mother was a bit more observant than he would have liked to give her credit for. One night, after spending the day sitting under a bridge and throwing rocks into the dirty water, Marik came back to home in hopes of getting a few hours of sleep. He was surprised to see that he wasn’t alone. There were lights in the living room and he could hear the TV blaring. 

Huh. Wasn’t his mom supposed to be at work by now? 

His mom looked at him oddly when he closed the front door behind him. She was sitting on the moth eaten sofa, curled under a blanket and watching some late night movie. She turned the volume down when Marik got in and stared at him with questions in her eyes. 

“It’s school night,” she said. It wasn’t a question, but it sounded like one. 

“What are you doing at home?” was Marik’s answer. 

“Vacation days,” she answered, face empty of anything that might have clued Marik in on what was going on in her head. Marik expected her to lose her interest and turn back to her movie, but she didn’t. 

He stood awkwardly in the doorway, his backpack hanging limply from his right shoulder. 

“Well,” he said slowly. “I should – “

“I got a call from your school today,” his mother cut in, putting down the remote. “You’ve been skipping days again.”

“Yeah.”

She frowned a little, turning to fully face him. “I thought you weren’t going to do that anymore.” 

Marik’s throat felt dry and for some reason his mother’s eyes were sharper than they had been in a long time, staring at him. 

“I’m going to bed,” he said. No point in prolonging this… whatever this was. He was getting antsy and he didn’t want to be here. He’d thought she was at work, she was _supposed_ to be at work. But now she was here and the TV was making noise and Marik’s whole body felt too heavy. 

“Come here for a moment.”

He stopped. His back to the woman, he could have just kept walking like he hadn’t heard her. Marik was tired and did not want to do whatever this was that his mom wanted to do. They didn’t talk. Not much. Some words here or there, more than they had before, but talking wasn’t what they did. Not about things that mattered. 

“Please, Marik,” she said. “I’m worried about you.”

Was she? Marik looked at her over his shoulder. She looked tired as well, but she always looked like that. The skin around her eyes was tight and her mouth was nothing more than a thin line across her face. Marik wasn’t sure what worry was supposed to look like on that face. He’d seen fear, he’d seen sorrow and he’d seen what giving up looked like. But worry? He couldn’t be sure. 

Slowly he turned back and walked to sit next to her on the couch. The springs let out a painful whine under his weight, like the whole thing was going to give up on him. For a moment they just sat like that in silence. The movie was playing on mute, some sort of a cheap action flick that was coming to its close. There were a lot of explosions and in a better time Marik might have enjoyed it quite a bit. But now it was completely forgotten by them both. Marik’s mother collected her thoughts, lips pursing and the lines on her face growing deeper. 

“Did you know that I’ve been talking with your cousin on the phone?” she asked after a while. She wasn’t looking at Marik when she said that, focusing on the dulled colors of the sofa instead. 

“…What? Malik?” Marik asked. 

“Ishizu, actually. Ever since you came back from Egypt. I was… I wasn’t sure at first if I wanted to take you back into my house.”

Marik drew in a sharp breath. He… He should have known, really, but it stung. It really stung. This wasn’t the conversation he’d been expecting. He cleared his throat.

“Why did you? Maybe you should’ve just – “

“No, Marik,” she said sternly, looking up at him and reaching her hand as if to put it on his. She hesitated and pulled it back. “No, it isn’t like that.”

Marik let out a short laugh. It didn’t feel funny for him, but suddenly the sound had just escaped his throat like an ugly frog and he was feeling sick. 

“I was afraid,” his mother said. “I was so afraid to see you grow. Every day you acted more and more like your father. You lashed out, you got violent. And all I could think was that you were growing up to be just like him and there was nothing I could do about it.”

Marik felt a lump forming in his throat and he couldn’t move from his seat. So she thought about it as well, then. It was official. Marik might as well admit it now, there was no escape from it. Slowly but surely he was growing up to be just like him. His fingers curled into fists on his lap and he said nothing while his mother gathered her thoughts. 

“I was so sure you were headed into the same direction, you reacted to your anger just like him,” she continued, looking at the TV like she saw nothing there. “You got more violent. You came home with bruises on you knuckles and the school… the school was contacting me all the time about your behavior and I didn’t know what to do. When your cousins contacted me about you, I…” She quieted down, her voice breaking and she wiped her face with her hand. “I was relieved. Relieved that you would be taken away from me. Relieved that I wouldn’t have to look you fall deeper and deeper into your pit. I… Marik I… I was afraid that you would start hurting me like your father did.”

Marik was feeling sick, but more over he felt like he was going to crumble. He covered his mouth in a vain attempt to stop loud sobs from escaping. 

“I’d lost hope, Marik,” his mother said. “I’d given up and just wanted you out of my life. I’m… I’m so sorry Marik. I’m sorry!”

“Why did you take me back?” he asked, cried more like. His whole body was trembling. 

“I didn’t want to,” the woman sobbed. She was nearly doubled over, cradling herself with both arms. “I didn’t believe Ishizu when she said that you were changing. I didn’t believe a word of it. But she convinced me to give you another chance. She convinced me to take you back in.”

“I shouldn’t have come back here,” Marik muttered quietly, turning to get up. He didn’t get far though, not before his mother grabbed a hold of his sleeve, pulling him back.

“No, Marik,” his mother said, tears rimming her eyes. “No, can’t you see I was wrong? I was so wrong. You are _nothing_ like your father. You are not.”

His lungs were being squeezed, it hurt and made his whole body tremble. But the look in his mother’s eyes wasn’t accusing. It was bright and loving, gentle if not a little desperate. She pulled him back onto the couch, next to her and her cold hands enveloped his, gripping tight. 

“I noticed the small things at first. You were really trying. I thought it was just an act, you were still lashing out, shouting, acting violent, but you were trying. And I was talking with Ishizu, listening to her and trying to believe that you had changed. And… and you had. The longer the time passed, the more clear it was.”

She smiled a little, eyes wet and shining. His mother put her hand on his knee, squeezing a little. 

“It became clear to me on that day you were sick. It could not have been more obvious. Had your father been in your place, he would have been angry. He would had screamed and shouted and he would have hit me. But not you, Marik. Not you.”

Marik looked up at her, fearing to see what would be hidden behind her eyes. 

“You are not your father,” she said sternly, staring at him with a serious look. “You are not. Your father would have never gone through this much trouble to get better. He didn’t care enough. Marik. Listen to me. You are _not_ your father.”

That broke it. Marik started crying loudly, tears rolling down his cheeks, face crunched up into an ugly scowl. His mother was crying as well when she pulled him into a hug, hanging onto him like she feared he was going to melt away with his tears. 

He wasn’t sure how long they were like that, and it didn’t matter. Not really. By the time he had ran out of tears and was pulling back, the movie had ended and late night infomercials were on. He rubbed his eyes, as if that was going to make things any better. He was feeling empty, but… it wasn’t bad kind of empty. He just felt spent.

His mother was looking just about as tired as he, hair disheveled and dirty. She rubbed her forehead and drew in a heavy sigh. 

“So,” she said a bit shakily. “What’s this about you skipping school?”

Ah. Back to the matter at hand. Marik stared at the floor. He couldn’t think of a word to say. The truth would have probably been the best, but how was he supposed to be able to get it out? Marik licked his teeth and stared holes into the dirty carpet. 

“Is this about that boy… Bakura?”

Marik’s body grew rigid and he chanced a glance at his mother. She was looking at him, but he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Was she judging him? Or pitying? Neither felt like good options. 

“I… Yeah. Maybe. Yeah,” he muttered and covered his face with both his hands. “But not just that. I don’t… It… Fuck!” Her threw his hands down and then ran them through his hair. Why couldn’t the words just come out all nice and easy like they seemed to come for everyone else? His fingers curled into fists around tufts of his hair and Marik pulled. The sting was making it just a bit easier to think. Just a little. 

“I don’t feel good at school,” he said after a while. It came out muffled, but it was a victory in and of it self. “People staring. Whispering. Talking about me.”

“Are you still taking your medication?”

“Of course I’m still taking my fucking medication!” he barked out at her, and then regretted it immediately. He pulled back and kept staring at the carpet. “Sorry,” he muttered.

She hummed and for a moment the lines around her mouth tightened. But then she relaxed. 

“When I talked to Ishizu, do you know what she said?”

He made a noncommittal sound at the back of his throat and kept combing his fingers through his hair. Strands were falling off and maybe he should have considered stopping unless he wanted to go bald. 

“She told me that you had been adamant about returning back to Domino. That you had insisted you wanted to try again. Are you going to let a few setbacks stop you, Marik?”

Setbacks? Marik spluttered and turned to look at her with clearly visible anger. 

“I already fucked up enough as it is,” he hissed. “I can’t do this!”

“Why?” she asked and crossed her arms. “Because of what happened between you and that boy?”

“I broke his trust,” Marik ground out between his teeth. 

“That wasn’t what he seemed worried about.”

Marik was about to argue, but stopped. He looked at his mother from under his brows, unsure what she was getting at. 

She smiled thinly, a joyless little lift of her mouth. 

“I was quite surprised to find him outside my house that one day. Woke up to the doorbell, a nervous little thing fidgeting at my door. Came asking for you, telling me he wanted to talk.”

Marik stared at his feet. 

“Don’t know why he bothered,” he muttered. 

“Well, it wasn’t for the homework,” his mother said, tilting her head and trying to get his eye contact. “If he didn’t want to see you again, he wouldn’t have come looking for you.”

Marik didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what he should have said in the first place. But his mother seemed to be able to continue this conversation even without his involvement. 

“He was worried about you. Wanted to talk to you. You closed up and he tried to get back in.”

“He shouldn’t get back in,” Marik growled. “I’ll just end up hurting him again.”

“Have you even talked about that… thing… with him afterwards? Maybe things are not as bad as you think they are. People are hard to read sometimes. It’s okay to ask them to tell you how they feel.”

She made it sound so simple. Too simple. If she thought Marik was going to be able to put to words what bothered him, to ask for clarifications and to say what was on his mind, she was highly overestimating his abilities. 

But there was truth to her words. Ryou had come for him. Even after Marik had acted so crassly, after he done… that… Ryou had come for him and tried to talk. And Marik hadn’t wanted to listen. Would Ryou still be willing to give him a chance? A chance to make it better. What would happen if he tried?

Should he even try? With how he’d fared so far, maybe the best solution was still leaving. Saving the people he cared about the trouble of having to deal with his outbursts. 

_You are not your father._

It was still hard to believe. He couldn’t just shut down the image of his life slowly morphing into that of his dad’s, but he wanted to believe it. Wanted it so bad. And if there was anyone who had known his dad better than him, then surely that was his mom. Marik closed his eyes and breathed deeply. If she said he wasn’t like him, then surely it must have been true?

Well, not really. There was still a chance that he could turn out like the dead oaf. If he let himself go, gave up on trying and just let his moods take him, that would be where he was headed. But the thing was, Marik was the one who was in charge of the change. His decisions were the ones that would decide whether or not he would spend the rest of his life regretting every decision he made. 

He could be the one to make that choice. 

“ _What is it that_ you _want to do?_ ” he had imagined Ishizu asking. What Marik wanted was normalcy. Peace and quiet. Not the complete death to his stronger emotions, but better control over them. And Ryou. 

He wanted Ryou. 

Malik had said that the first step to fixing your fuck ups was an apology. It was only the start, but it was a good one. That way Ryou would know that what Marik had done had been wrong and that Marik knew it had been wrong. That way he could start making things better again, one small action at a time, if Ryou just let him. 

And maybe… just maybe it could work out. 

It felt like too much to ask. Like Marik had already crossed a line that should not be crossed. But… but he was a selfish human. He wanted things he knew he couldn’t have and craved for company he should not keep. 

Could it work? Marik honestly had no idea. His head was heavy with thoughts that wouldn’t materialize properly, no matter how hard he tried to think them. But if there was one thing he knew, it was that he didn’t want to keep living like this. Not in this weird transitional state between school and wanting to escape. Something needed to be done and whether that was trying to get back to Bakura Ryou’s good side or leaving Domino City for good, Marik wasn’t sure yet. Sure, he wanted to go back to being friends with Ryou again, but… if it was only going to end up hurting them both like this again, maybe it wasn’t worth it. 

Marik leaned his head on his mother’s lap and she started petting his hair. The guy on TV was raving about some brand new way to keep fit while staying at home and staring at a screen. Marik didn’t much care for it. His eyes grew hazy. He just felt tired. Spent. Like there was nothing left to give for now. 

He wasn’t sure if he liked or disliked the feeling. 

But one thing was for sure. He was going to give this a try. One last time. And whatever was going to happen, he was going to accept it. 

No matter how hard it was going to hurt.


	24. Chapter 24

Marik slept surprisingly well considering his decision from the last night. Or maybe it was exactly because of last night that he slept so well. Before falling asleep he had been so emotionally spent that it was no wonder that he went out like a candle. 

His mom woke him up in the morning. He’d curled to sleep on the couch, a familiar bed from many nights before. He told her about his decision and she nodded. Marik had her blessing on this. 

Marik could barely touch his breakfast, giving up on it half way through and packing his belongings to leave a bit earlier than usual. When he left, his mom was sitting in the kitchen, a coffee cup held tightly in her hands. She lifted the cup at him, like a mocking salute. Marik nodded as an answer and left the apartment. 

Okay. Okay, he was going to do this. He had made up his mind and there was changing it now. This was the last time Marik was going to try this and if it didn’t work out, if Ryou gave one signal that he didn’t want to be any part of it, then that would be it. Marik would stop bothering him, would stop approaching him altogether. He was going to leave Domino for good and try to find a way to stand on his own feet. It wasn’t going to be easy, nothing in his life ever was, but staying still and wallowing in his self-pity hadn’t gotten him anywhere so far. So one last try. 

Marik’s first priority for the day was to find Ryou and talk to him. Easy enough. He knew where to look, knew the classes Ryou took. He was going to go to him, ask to have a talk after school, hopefully find a secluded spot where he could say what needed to be said without prying eyes. But first, before all that, Marik was going to apologize. Get that out before anything else so that Ryou knew what he was on about. 

Should be easy. In theory. But things like this never were. 

When Marik got to school, it was still pretty early. This must have been the fist time he’d gotten here this early and there were barely any students or teachers about. From memory Marik recalled that Ryou’s first class of the day would be chemistry. He made his way inside, picking at the strap of his backpack. The school was calm and quiet at this time of the day. It was pretty nice, actually. No people around to ridicule him, no sharp glares, no whispers following him wherever he went. 

The downside was that Ryou wasn’t there either. Marik made his way to the chemistry classrooms and took a peek inside to see that the rooms were empty. He was too early. Marik dragged his feet around, pulling at the strap. It was okay. It was good. It left him time to think about what to say. 

An apology. Everything should start with an apology. He was going to make sure Ryou knew how sorry he was and how he was never going to let something like that happen again. Marik would let Ryou know that he could be a good friend and he could keep things under control if Ryou just wanted to let him be around him. Yeah. That was good. Marik paced back and forth before the chemistry classroom. All he needed to tell was how he felt, how sorry he was and how much he had missed Ryou during this time spent apart. 

No. Maybe that wouldn’t work. Maybe Ryou would think that was creepy. Shit. He should have tried to organize things better before coming here. 

“Ishtar?”

The blood in Marik’s veins froze, immobilizing him on his spot. Shit. He wasn’t ready. He hadn’t thought a good enough opener for his apology just yet. Focusing on his movements, forcing his body to do as it was told, Marik turned around to face Ryou. Well, face was maybe a bit of an exaggeration, since he was looking at Ryou’s feet instead of his eyes, but hey, this was better than having his back to him, surely. 

Ryou’s stance was rigid by the look of his feet, like he wasn’t sure whether to stay put or turn around and walk back the same way he had come from. When Marik tried to gather enough courage to look him in the eye, he could see Ryou holding a pile of books against his chest. And he was wearing his hair down again, covering most of his face behind the strands. 

Great, Marik thought with defeat. They were already starting with bad terms, with Ryou doing his best to put as much distance between them as possible without actually stepping back. 

“What are you doing in here?” Ryou asked, his voice subdued and a bit hoarse. His hand moved up to pull at his hair. 

Marik looked back down, where it was safe. But the floor wasn’t giving him any answers. His head was ringing empty and it took him a moment too long to answer. 

“I… I came to talk to you. Wanted to talk to you.”

Ryou let out a small sound, a surprised squeak and his head shot up. He moved his hair aside and balanced the books on his hip instead of keeping them over his heart. Ryou cleared his throat and leaned back a little. His stance relaxed, even if only minutely and it made Marik feel a little better in his skin. 

“Okay,” Ryou said, tilting his hips to the right. “I… What can I do for you?”

Green light. Okay. Now was Marik’s chance, his last chance to try to make this right. 

“Ryou,” he said uncertainly, looking at his feet rather than the guy in front of him. “I… I wanted to…” He wanted what, exactly? He couldn’t spit out the words even if they were supposed to be at the tip of his tongue. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Hold on.” His fists were shaking at his sides. He should have written it down, should have memorized it before this. But now his mind was reeling and leaving him with nothing. 

Ryou, for his part, hadn’t moved an inch from his spot, still staring at Marik as far as Marik could tell. He could almost feel the brown eyes gauging at him. But Ryou hadn’t backed out of the situation. He was right there and he was giving Marik a chance, even after all his blunders. He tried to think it as a good sign. 

“Look, I… Fuck!” he cursed again, running his hands into his hair. “Ryou, I’m sorry.”

There. He got it out. Not as eloquent as he wanted to be, far from enough, but it was a start. It gave Marik enough strength to have him lifting his eyes from Ryou’s feet to look him in the eye to see how he would react to it. 

What Marik found himself paying more attention to, though, was a fading bruise under Ryou’s left eye. Looked to be maybe three, maybe four days old. 

Ryou was opening his mouth to say something. Marik cut in before he could get a word out. 

“The fuck did that come from?”

Ryou’s eyes grew large with alarm and his hand flew to his hair, pulling at it to hide the mark away again, but it was too late. Marik had seen it already and his head was swimming. That was… It had been… While he’d been gone, those guys had…

“Marik Ishtar!”

It was a teacher. Marik could hear his voice as if he was at the bottom of the ocean and the teacher was yelling at him from the surface. Ryou was trying to say something, moving closer to grab at his sleeve and pull at him, but Marik couldn’t move. 

Because he had stopped walking Ryou home… because he had been too much of a coward…

This had been his fault. 

The teacher, a chemistry teacher if memory served, was approaching them, fuming like a freight train. His face was glowing red by the time he reached them, spewing barely coherent words. 

They finally connected with Marik when the teacher came to a stop next to him. 

“You dare to show your face back here after what you’ve done?” the teacher raged.

“Huh?”

Ryou was desperately trying to get between Marik and the teacher, saying things like: “No, but I told you… It’s not him, I told you!” but the man was undeterred. 

“Please step away from Bakura Ryou and follow me to the principal’s office,” he said. 

“What?” Marik asked, confused anger seeping into his voice. 

The teacher sidestepped Ryou and grabbed a hold of Marik’s arm. 

“Now, if you please,” he said in a tone that told Marik he was done asking nicely. 

Touching him. The teacher was holding onto his arm with a vice-like grip and Marik didn’t like it. He bared his teeth to a snarl, sending the man stumbling back with a spooked expression. 

”No, teacher,” Ryou said. “Wait! I told you, Ishtar doesn’t have anything to do with this!” He was trying to get back between them, to keep them apart. The teacher wasn’t making that easy for him, though, dead set on shepherding Marik into the principal’s office whether the teen wanted to comply or not. 

“We’ll get to the bottom of this, Bakura. Now Ishtar, come with me.”

Marik wasn’t moving. He was staring at the bruise and that was all he could think about. 

His fault. His fault. Because he hadn’t been there. The bullies had gotten to Ryou because he had been too scared to do what he had promised he would. They’d found Ryou again, beaten him up and probably stolen his money and told him they’d be back for more. 

Marik was seeing red. And he wasn’t going to follow the teacher. 

Ryou took one look at his face and saw what he was planning. And he didn’t like it. 

“Ishtar, no. This isn’t that bad,” Ryou said, moving closer to him. He was trying to get Marik to look at him, twisting and turning to remain in Marik’s line of sight. “You were going to say something. Please, let’s talk about it and – “

Marik was beyond words. He couldn’t form proper sentences, couldn’t get out much more than wordless growls. He turned around and started marching out of the school. 

“Marik Ishtar, stop this instant!” the teacher yelled after him. More people were arriving at school, staring at the enraged former bully and the teacher yelling after him. But the teacher didn’t try to approach him, just shouted from a distance. “If you do not stop and come with me, I’ll be forced to call the authorities. You hear me, Ishtar?” 

Students were gathering around, staring at the spectacle. Their eyes only served to fuel Marik’s rage. He pushed them out of his way, caring little if he sent a few shorter and lighter students tumbling with his rash movements. He was on his way out and these people were in his way. 

Ryou called after him, called him by the name and it was enough to slow down Marik’s march. He looked over his shoulder to see the teacher putting his hand on Ryou’s shoulder, keeping him rooted. Good. Better for Ryou to stay away from Marik. Besides, he had things to do and maybe it was for the best if Ryou didn’t have to deal with that. 

It was clear now. His fuck-up had been the reason Ryou’s bullying had been allowed to continue. Marik had promised to keep his safe and had failed even at that. He didn’t deserve any kindness from Ryou, didn’t deserve his friendship. All he could do now was to deal with the situation and leave. 

He was going to make sure those men never bothered Ryou again.


	25. Chapter 25

There was one problem with Marik’s plan. And unfortunately for him, it was a big one. 

He didn’t know where to find the people he was looking for. 

He barely knew anything about the people that had been targeting Ryou. Marik didn’t know their names, he didn’t know their usual hangouts, hell, he didn’t even know how big that group actually was. When he’d caught them up with Ryou, there had only been three of them, when they’d cornered Marik and beaten him up, there had been five. The actual group could have more people and that was going to be a problem. 

Marik was fuming. He was having a hard time thinking clearly, but it wasn’t slowing him down. Too bad his determination alone wasn’t enough to make the people magically appear before him. Otherwise Marik would have already beaten the living shit out of them. 

Or gotten hurt himself. Either or. He was ready to welcome either or, really. Someone needed to punish him for letting Ryou down again and again and if it wasn’t going to be Ryou himself, then Marik needed to find some other source of violence. 

The first thing he had done, was gone to that spot he had first seen the guys harassing Ryou. The alleyway had been empty, no people in sight. It hadn’t looked like there had been anyone there recently either. He could have waited there, but Marik had had a hard time staying put, so he had made his way to Ryou’s house. Not sure exactly why he did it, his feet carried him on autopilot when Marik’s head failed to make coherent thought. 

Of course the people weren’t there. Why would they go to Ryou’s house? Marik paced back and forth in front of Ryou’s apartment building, unsure what to do. Anger could only carry him so far. He was so full of energy, he could have pummeled all five of those guys he’d seen before by himself. Too bad they were nowhere to be seen. 

Well. He wasn’t going to stop because of a small hindrance like this. Somewhere in this god-forsaken city, those vermin were killing time, taking space, wasting oxygen. And Marik was going to do something about it. He was going to keep looking, turn every stone and inspect every back alley until he either found the culprits or dropped dead from exhaustion. 

Marik made the trip between Ryou’s home and school for a few times more, just in case he would spot a familiar face among the crowds. There weren’t that many people on the move right now, it seemed. People were either at school, working or sleeping. And the rare few Marik could see out and about were total strangers to him. So he guided his steps away from the streets and into the shadows between the alleys. 

He found some kids around his age, skipping school just like him. He tried asking them if they knew about the guys he was looking for. They told him to get lost and Marik felt like he wasn’t even in his body anymore. Instead he was following the events as they took place from somewhere beyond, barely in control of his own body. He got into a fight. He knocked a guy’s tooth out before they told him anything. They gave Marik a hangout where he might find people fitting his description. 

And there it was. Marik’s chance. His feet were carrying him towards the place even before he could process it properly. He just wanted to be done with this. Done with all of this shit. Maybe if he got there and did… this… he would feel better. Maybe the pressure in his head would ease up. Maybe they could make it all stop. Either way, he was going to end this today. 

He was rewarded for his stubbornness when he reached the spot he’d been told about. There were people there already, lounging and talking, not really doing much by the looks of it. Marik could recognize the leader and a handful of the guys around him. The leader was leaning against a dumpster with a girl under his arm, laughing loudly about something. 

Marik was going to make him choke on that laughter. 

“Well, shit,” the leader said when he spotted Marik approaching. He clearly recognized the fuming teen and grinned at the sight. “Didn’t think you’d be dumb enough to come back after last time.” He lifted his arm and the girl he’d been holding slipped away while he straightened his back. The leader cracked his head from side to side and flexed his arms. “But you never struck me as that smart of a guy.”

Marik ground his teeth together, counting the guys around him. Looked like five dudes and two girls. Seven people, if all of them decided to have a go at him. Marik had never fought seven people at the same time before, not without some back up. But he wasn’t backing down. He was ready to either go down or put these people down. 

“Shouldn’t have beaten Ryou,” he growled. 

The leader started laughing at him. “You’re still on about that? Yeah, I agree. That thing with Ryou has grown old. But it’s just easy money. His family is loaded, have you seen where he lives? He’s not going to miss few hundred dollars a month.”

“Not the point,” Marik said. He was done talking, it wasn’t going to get them anywhere anyway. He marched to the man and grabbed hold of his jacket, pulling his arm back to plant it on his mouth. He didn’t get a chance to follow through, though, before he was grabbed and thrown aside by two of the cronies. They held on tight to him, trying to restrain him, but they were having a hard time holding him down. Marik struggled and cursed, wanting to punch that smug fucker’s face in. 

“Look at that,” the leader laughed and tilted his head. He lifted his hand to rub his stubbly chin. “You almost got me there. Still want to fight, huh? Would have thought last time was enough to teach you a lesson. Apparently not.” He stood up taller and pulled at his jacket to straighten it out. Then he smirked at Marik. “Hold him still, boys. This one needs a reminder.”

The first hit landed on his stomach, making him double down. The people holding him still forced him upright again and the next hit was to his face, right below his right eye. The bastard was wearing some kind of a ring and the metal tore into his skin, breaking it open. Just a few inches up and it would have been in his eye. Either the guy had missed or that had been intentional. He leaned back eyeing his bloodied ring, clearly pleased with his handiwork. 

“Are we done here now, or do you need more of an incentive to stay away?” he asked. 

Warm blood was trickling down from the cut. He grimaced, but it turned more into a smile than anything else. He pushed back, making one of the guys holding onto him trip and using his weight to rip his way free of the other one. Lifting his eyes to the leader, Marik lunged. 

He was given a few free punches before the others came back to pull him off again, trying the same trick twice. This time, though, Marik didn’t let them capture him that easily. He decked the guy that had been holding onto his right side and managed to get a hold of the other guy’s hair, ready to hit his head against a close by wall by the time the others decided to join the fun. 

At that point, Marik knew that he was pretty much fucked. 

They outnumbered him easily. Every punch he managed to dodge was met with two more and the assailants managed to grab him again. They rammed him against the wall, knocking the air out of his lungs. One of them landed a good few punches to Marik’s side before he managed to get free and Marik broke his arm for it. He could feel the bone snap under his hold, twisting it until the guy was screaming. He aimed a kick on the guy’s knees and he fell down crying loudly. 

Okay. One down. Six to go. Marik was grinning, but there was no feeling behind it. His blood was pumping, but the usual feeling of his fighting glee was gone. Something had replaced that, but Marik wasn’t completely sure what it was. Anger, probably. But it wasn’t the usual feel, not the emotion that moved like a tidal wave, flooding over everything and drowning out reason. It was numbing, it felt suffocating, yes, but not in the same way as anger. It felt like there was going to be nothing after this. This fight and then it was over. Marik probably couldn’t have put it to words even if these guys weren’t beating the living shit out of him right now. 

He knew how to fight, he had the experience. Marik managed to take down two more of these idiots, one guy and the other girl, but he was getting exhausted. His energy was running low and the second rate anger wasn’t enough to keep his blood bumping. 

He wasn’t going to stop, though. No matter what. Not until he got his point across. And if that was going to take the whole night of him getting beaten, then that was what it was going to take. 

That was what Marik thought, at least, until one of the guys managed to get a hold of his arm. The guy wasn’t big, wasn’t that strong looking either, but when he got a hold of Marik and when he twisted, Marik could feel something breaking. He howled in pain, grabbing ahold of the guy with his free arm and sinking his teeth into the guy’s throat. It wasn’t enough to do much else than draw a little blood, but the action spooked the man enough to let go of him and Marik stumbled back, holding onto his broken arm. 

It wasn’t supposed to bend like that, Marik was pretty sure. He growled, not sure if he was frustrated about his body failing him or the people around him. He wasn’t going to let a small thing like a broken limb stop him though. 

The glint of a light from a reflective surface drew his attention. Marik looked up from his arm to see the leader with a knife and a grimace. Apparently he wasn’t having that good of a time anymore. Marik had managed to plant a good few strikes there, the leader’s nose was clearly broken and bleeding and Marik hoped it would heal crooked. 

The man wiped his face, removing some of the blood there and held the knife higher. 

“Should have given up while you still had the chance,” he growled. 

“Boss, are you sure this is a good idea?” one of the lackeys asked. “I mean, it’s just a kid.”

“The ‘kid’ decked Thompson. You wanna go home and cry about it, be my guest!” the leader roared and turned to Marik. He dashed forward, making a slash at him. 

Marik managed to dodge the first slash, sidestep the other and swing his good arm at the man. The knife was going for his gut. Did this fucker really want to kill him? Marik dodged to the side, jumping left and back and the stab that had been meant for his stomach landed on his leg instead, tearing through the fabric of his pants and sinking into the flesh beneath. 

Shit. That could have been really bad. The cut wasn’t deep, but it was there all the same, bleeding on his pants. It stung like hell, but he couldn’t stop now to see the extent of the damage. All he knew was that he wasn’t dying and that was going to have to be good enough for now. 

He didn’t have time to do much else before he was hit at the back of his head with something heavy and flat. Marik was sent sprawling on the ground face first. His head felt like it had been split open, cracked like an egg and he felt his head bleeding, the warm and sticky blood reaching for the ground. The leader walked into Marik’s hazy line of sight, but Marik couldn’t see him properly. The bastard was probably smiling. Marik could almost imagine the shit head smiling like he’d won already. He tried to get up, but couldn’t. His vision was growing blurrier and blurrier, the edges darkening into inky blackness. 

No! He couldn’t go down now!

The guy was saying something, his voice sounding way too loud and distant at the same time. 

Marik’s second to last thought before blacking out was that this hadn’t really gone at all like he had hoped. 

His last thought was about Ryou. 

He hadn’t apologized like he’d supposed to.


	26. Chapter 26

When he next woke up, he was no longer in the alleyway. Instead Marik was somewhere warm, wrapped in thin sheets on a bed that was way too smooth and hard to be his. He groaned, head heavy and tried to get up. Something was pulling at his arm, holding him down. Restricting him. 

Marik opened his eyes. Well, he opened his left eye. The right one refused to move and felt oddly numb. Oh yeah, Marik thought sluggishly. The ring. His eye had probably swollen shut. 

He blinked blearily, staring at the confusing and blurry world around him. With every blink, shapes around him grew a little sharper, a little clearer until Marik could make sense of his surroundings. 

He was in a hospital room. Looking around he saw that he’d been left to rest on a bed and he wasn’t alone in the room. There were other patients here as well, resting on their own beds. Some of them were awake, others either asleep or unconscious. Marik turned his attention away from his surroundings and back onto his aching body. 

He had his right arm in a cast and the wound on his leg had been patched up as well by the looks of it. He knew he should have been sore all over, but there was a certain numbness in his head that spoke of high doses of painkillers. 

Aw hell, was his first thought. Does mom’s insurance cover this? 

The second was a general feeling of dejectedness. It was over, then. He’d gotten caught. It would be good-bye to his school career. Good-bye to his old life. The best thing he could do right now was get up and leave. Leave Domino and all the people in it. Would have been easier that way. After all, there was nothing left for him in here. 

Marik wanted to get angry. He wanted to rage and thro something. But he didn’t have it in him. He just felt listless. Couldn’t even get up to his feet the way he was. 

Probably sedatives. He closed his eye, trying to feel the dull ache of his limbs, but couldn’t. Yeah. Definitely sedatives. 

He lay there for a while, ten, maybe fifteen minutes before a nurse came around. She smiled at him warmly.

“Good to see you finally awake,” she said. “You hit your head pretty hard, we had to keep you here for the night, just in case.”

Marik didn’t say anything while the nurse busied herself around his bedside. He was given a tray with food that looked none too appetizing, but Marik realized that he was so hungry that he didn’t care. Operating the fork with his left hand was proving difficult, but by some miracle Marik managed not to drop his entire meal on his lap. 

By the time visitation hours started, the effects of the sedatives were starting to wear off and Marik hadn’t asked for another dose. His limbs started to ache and his right eye started to itch uncomfortably. He wasn’t expecting anyone to come see him, some of the other patients were getting friends and family members, but Marik was fully prepared to just spend his day in solitude and confusion. 

He wasn’t expecting his mother to walk to him in her cleanest attire. She’d even made her hair like she was prepared to go to work. But there she was, eyes unreadable when Marik got her in his line of sight. 

“Marik,” she said slowly.

“Mom,” he answered uncertainly.

For a moment she just stood there, arms at her sides like she didn’t know what to do with them. Then her face relaxed and her lips spread into a tiny, watery smile. 

“Oh, Marik,” she said. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Wasn’t,” he said, looking away. “That’s the problem most of the times.”

“It is, isn’t it?” she said and pulled a chair to sit on. She set her purse on her lap and ran her hands through her hair, mussing up the clean do with her nervous movements. “You had me so worried. Suddenly I just get a call from the hospital telling me that my son had gotten beaten up and was sleeping off a concussion. Not what I wanted to hear, Marik. Not at all.”

“Sorry,” he muttered. 

“You should be,” she scolded, her brows falling into a tired frown. “Running off to search for a fight like that. You really weren’t thinking at all, were you?”

He turned to look at her. How did she know about that? And if she knew, who else knew?

Marik was in a hospital, meaning that the police was probably involved. He was going to get kicked out of school for sure and this time he may even have to go to the juvie. He groaned and pressed his hands into his eyes, then regretted it immediately, when his right eye started stinging with vengeance. 

It was like his mother had read his mind. Maybe she could see the horror on his face. 

“We’ve already talked to the police,” she said. “They have questions for you as well, no doubt, but this seems like a clear cut case. Your friend told them everything. Talked to me as well.”

Friend? Marik looked at his mother. He wasn’t aware that he had any friends. Unless she meant…

“I’m so proud of you watching over Ryou like that,” she said. 

“You are?” he rasped. 

“Yes.” She reached to pat his head and caught a few strands of his hair between her fingers. “Not the fight, though. Not that at all. But the other things.” She smiled a little, closing her eyes and whispering. “Good job.”

Marik’s throat felt tight and his nose warm. He cleared his throat and nodded. 

“What about the bills?” he asked a moment later, when he could trust his voice not to break. 

His mom frowned and pulled back. “Don’t worry about that,” she said. “We’ll figure it out later. For now, just focus on getting better.”

Yeah. That sounded like a solid plan. 

His mom stayed there for half an hour before the nurse came back. Marik was taken to see a doctor to check if he was good to go and apparently he was deemed well enough to return back home. Marik was grateful for that. No need to spend more time in this place than necessary. If they wanted him to sleep, he could do it at home where he didn’t have to make his mom pay herself sick for it. 

Marik was walking with his mom to the lobby, when he spotted him. 

Bakura Ryou was waiting for them in there. 

Marik stopped on his tracks when he saw the familiar head of white hair and suddenly his body lost its ability to move. He should have been limping away, or maybe he should have been limping towards him, but Marik could do neither. So he just stood there, rooted to his spot and unable to move. 

Ryou, for his part, seemed to be suffering from a similar effect, standing awkwardly by the waiting room chairs like he had just stood up and forgotten what he was about to do. Marik wasn’t surprised to see him wringing his hands like crazy. 

His mother gave them one look, then nodded.

“I’m going to go ahead. I’ll wait for you in the parking lot. Don’t even think about going by foot.”

The words didn’t connect in Marik’s head, but he nodded all the same. It was the only motion he seemed to be capable of at the moment. His mother started walking away, leaving him behind in his confusion. 

Ryou’s hands stopped their movement and he seemed to come to a conclusion of some kind. He drew in a breath and squared his shoulders. Something akin to determination filled his eyes and he started making his way towards Marik. 

He couldn’t have run away even if he wanted to.

“How are you feeling?” Ryou asked, eyeing him up and down. 

“ ’M fine.”

Ryou’s eyes lingered on his bruised eye and Marik couldn’t help but stare at his own set of bruises. As far as he was concerned, it had been worth it. 

They stood silent in the waiting room, an awkward air of unsaid words hanging over them. But Marik knew what he was supposed to do, knew what he had been planning on doing before all of this madness had come about. There was no point in changing the plan now, was there?

The words stuck to his throat, feeling like a block in his airways. Marik licked his cracked lips and straightened his back, towering over Ryou. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

Ryou stared at him, frowning a little, like he wasn’t in on a joke. His mouth twisted into a frown as well, before he forced out a smile. 

“You should be!” he laughed, just like Marik’s mother had, and looked pointedly at the cast on his arm. “Running off like that and fighting thugs. You do know that you’re making others worry about you, right?”

“No, I… I mean, yeah. I know, but…” Marik rasped and curled his fingers. He was itching to push them into his pockets, but fought the urge. “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry about that… that one time. That Friday. You know, when I – “

“No, Ishtar,” Ryou cut in softly but firmly. He looked around them in the waiting room, his hands clenched at his sides. “It’s… it’s fine. I thought we agreed? It didn’t happen, right? Nothing happened.”

“Something happened,” Marik muttered and looked away. “Didn’t have the guts to think it, though.”

“Really, Ishtar,” Ryou said tightly. “It’s okay. I was… I was…”

“I broke your trust,” Marik said quietly and he closed his eyes. His throat felt scratchy and it had nothing to do with the fight he’d had. Maybe he should have asked for more meds before leaving. “We were doing so great and then I just… fucked it up. I’m so sorry.”

Ryou let out a small sound he couldn’t really decipher. Marik opened his eyes and turned to look at him. Well, not at his face, but somewhere around his collarbone and throat. 

“I can be a good friend,” he said hesitantly. “But I… this was what I…” he turned to look away again, feeling his skin itch and crawl. “I knew I was going to fuck this up sooner or later. Guess I didn’t want it to be this soon.”

Ryou didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, hesitantly he drew in a small breath. 

“You broke my trust… how exactly?” he asked carefully, like trying the ice. 

“You know,” Marik said, truly feeling ill in his own skin now. Why was Ryou making him say this? “When I… you know. Lunged at you. Like that.”

“Do you regret that?”

“Of course I do!” Marik said in a heartbeat. “Shouldn’t have ever done that! Was so stupid, so confused.”

“Would you take it back if you could?”

“Yeah, yeah, I swear and I’m never going to – “

Ryou’s cool and tiny hand landed on his injured one. 

“What if I… wanted you to do it?”

Marik had been ready to keep swearing, keep begging, but suddenly all air was sucked out of him. He finally looked Ryou in the eye to see something there, something warm. Something shy. Like he was carefully trying if the ice would hold. The boy’s cheeks were flaming red, his pale skin positively glowing. 

“Wh–?”

“When you ran off that night, I… I blamed myself for it,” Ryou said, looking down at their hands. His thumb started to rub light, soft circles on Marik’s skin and it was proving really distracting. “I thought I’d forced you into it.”

Forced? Ryou? Marik wanted to argue, but couldn’t get a word out in time. 

“I was up and about the whole weekend, so nervous, so worried. I thought that maybe I’d come on too strong. That maybe you didn’t want to… And then you didn’t come to school for a few days. I was so worried, but I didn’t have your phone number, I didn’t know where you lived.”

“Ryou –“

“I decided that I was going to talk about it to you once you got back, but when you did… I thought…” His hold on Marik’s hand grew stronger, squeezing tight. “But when you did come back, the way you acted… I thought you were disgusted about me. About the kiss.”

Ryou’s hand was trembling now and his lower lip got sucked between his teeth. 

“So, now I don’t know what to think anymore,” he said and looked at Marik. “No, it’s more like I don’t know what _you_ are thinking. I know what I… want.” Ryou’s cheeks were glowing pink and he averted his eyes for a moment, before turning to face Marik again. “But you are… What is it that _you_ want to do?”

Marik’s tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth and all he could do was stare at Ryou’s hand holding onto his. Slowly, carefully he turned his palm around so that he could hold onto Ryou for real. Ryou’s pale hand was small in his, small and a little cold. Sweaty. Or maybe that was just him. Marik squeezed a little, causing Ryou to smile. 

“I want… I want…” he muttered. Shit. He couldn’t get a word out, couldn’t put into words his emotions. Ryou was looking up at him expectantly and Marik felt like he could hope. He could hope he was reading this right, that he wasn’t making all of this up in his head. He took his uninjured hand and lifted it to Ryou’s cheek. It felt hot and cold at the same time, like electricity under his skin. Ryou’s eyes were shining bright when he leaned in to kiss him. 

It was small parts soft, small parts uncertain and big parts shy and Marik dared to barely move, barely breathe. It wasn’t what he had imagined it would be like, but his hand glided into Ryou’s neck and he could feel how soft and thin his hair was in the nape of his neck and it was more than he could have ever hoped for. 

The chaste kiss was over soon. Ryou pulled back but didn’t let go of his hand. He was smiling a little, his lips trembling like he was holding onto the biggest smile of his life and just barely managing to keep it in.

“Good,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Good,” he repeated a bit more clearly. “I’m glad we seem to want the same things.”


	27. Chapter 27

Ryou came with them to Marik’s mother’s house. Marik felt a little uncomfortable about it first, but neither Ryou nor his mother listened to his poorly worded arguments. Ryo was coming with them and that was final. And as long as he kept holding onto Marik’s hand, he couldn’t form even the simplest of rebuttals. 

At home Marik was propped on the living room sofa. His mom brought him microwaved meat stew and Ryou sat down next to him while he ate. His mom gave them a long look before saying something about groceries and leaving the house. For a moment Marik feared it was going to get awkward again, that it wasn’t going to work out after all. Cool sweat was starting to form on his back, making him feel uncomfortable. But then Ryou reached his hand uncertainly, grabbing a hold of his and sliding his cold fingers around Marik’s and squeezing a little. 

“So,” he said and looked at Marik through his lashes. “I seem to remember you promising that it was your turn to choose a movie.”

Marik wasn’t sure why, but his heart was beating loudly in his ears and his lips stretched into a smile. 

“Sure,” he said. “Let me show you what a real movie looks like.”

Ryou lifted a brow at that, like accepting a challenge, but not quite buying Marik’s chances. 

They chose a movie to watch and nestled into the couch. The springs groaned under them and Marik brushed off breadcrumbs self-consciously, but Ryou didn’t seem to mind. He was sitting close, so very close and Marik decided to go for it. He lifted his left arm over the back of the couch and put it around Ryou’s shoulder. Ryou turned to give him a look before snuggling even closer and Marik could see him smiling. His cheeks burned hot when he finally turned back to the movie. 

This. This right here. Heaven. 

He could tell Ryou wasn’t that into the movie. He didn’t have any problem pointing out all the flaws and plot holes he could see with a sniff and look down his nose. That was fine, Marik thought as he played with the tips of his hair. They were going to have all the time in the world to find movies they both liked. 

Afterwards Ryo nestled even closer to him, resting against his side like a warm weight. He ran his hand over the cast on Marik’s arm, humming softly and poking at in thought. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said quietly, running circles with his middle finger over where Marik’s wrist was. “You shouldn’t have just run off like that.”

“Yeah,” Marik muttered, leaning his head against Ryou’s uncertain if he should. He fit pretty nicely there, he had to admit. “Wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“It could have ended so badly for you,” Ryou continued, his finger drawing invisible lines on the cast. 

“Yeah,” Marik muttered when he knew nothing else to say. 

“Promise me if something like this happens again, we’ll call the police first.”

“If you promise not to keep things like these to yourself.”

Ryou opened his mouth as if to argue, but closed it when nothing came out and shook his head before burying it in the crook of Marik’s neck. “Agreed,” he whispered to Marik’s skin. The warm air sent shivers down his spine, setting something in his stomach on fire. Marik licked his lips nervously. This was… this was a lot to take in right now. 

“So,” he said in an attempt to distract himself from the rising anxiousness. “What happened while I was… what… what happened?”

Not the most eloquent way of putting it, but he was getting the idea that maybe Ryou understood him anyway. 

“Well,” Ryou said and started tapping a rhythm on his cast. “Where to even begin? You were… you were gone for a while. Where did you go?”

“Skipped school.”

“Yeah, I noticed. But why?”

Marik rubbed his neck, letting out a gust of air from his lungs. “School got uncomfortable. Couldn’t sit still. Got anxious. Needed to… needed to get out. So I got out. Tried hanging out with old… friends. Fought a little. Didn’t help much, though.”

Ryou was looking at him, or at least trying to from the awkward angle he was in. He sighed and pulled back a little, leaving a cooling spot on Marik’s chest. He leaned against the couch, looking at the wall behind the TV instead of Marik. 

“Well, mostly everything stayed the same at school while you were gone. I spent time mostly with… what did you call them? Yugi’s group?”

“Oh, ah,” Marik said and rubbed his neck harder. “The, uh… Friendship Gang.”

“Yeah,” Ryou cracked a smile looking at him from the corner of his eye. “Them. I was really worried about you.” He looked down at his hands. “Just… I didn’t know what to do about it. You said you didn’t want me in your house and you weren’t at school, so I didn’t know…”

“Sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I should have tried harder to – “

“No,” Marik cut in, a bit too loudly. He cleared his throat and looked down. “I mean, no, you tried plenty. It was me. I was… Didn’t have the guts to face you after what I did.”

“What happened that night?” Ryou asked carefully and turned fully to face Marik. He pulled his legs on the sofa and against his chest. “I honestly thought things were going great, until…”

“Until I blew up,” Marik said. 

“No, until you started to act all scared.”

“Scared?”

“Yeah, you were in an awful hurry to leave and I thought that maybe I had somehow given the wrong impression and I was trying to fix it, but I guess… I guess I came out too strong.”

The laugh escaped before Marik could stop it. He tried to disguise it as a cough, but it didn’t fly past Ryou. His brows fell into a frown immediately and his eyes narrowed. 

“You think it’s funny?” he asked. 

“No,” Marik said, still chuckling. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry, to be honest. His eyes were burning, his throat constricting. “Not at all. I just thought… I thought…” Oh God. He was crying. He sunk his hands into his hair and pulled, as if the stinging pain was going to force away his tears. 

Ryou moved closer putting his hand on Marik’s arm. Marik stared at it like he was expecting it to turn out to be just his imagination flying wild. But no, there Ryou was, holding onto him. 

“It was the other way around,” he said barely audibly, too afraid to raise his voice. It would break anyway. “I was the one who came on too strong. I’m the one who… threw you around and… and…”

“Oh, Ishtar,” Ryou muttered and lifted his hand from Marik’s arm to his cheek. “Maybe I shouldn’t say something like this, but… I didn’t really mind. It wasn’t the best first kiss, I must say, but…” He was blushing, his face glowing pink. “But I liked it. It was. Uhm. Passionate.”

Shit. Marik’s heart felt like it was going to rip out of his chest with the way it was beating against his ribs. It wasn’t a bad feeling. Probably. Didn’t feel too bad, at least. 

“I just don’t understand why you wanted to leave so badly,” Ryou said. 

“I didn’t understand why you wanted me to stay.”

“We were friends! Are. We are friends. And I, uh…” Ryou let out an uncomfortable laugh and rubbed his hands together between his knees. “Well, I remembered you telling me that you didn’t feel comfortable at home during weekends and I thought that maybe… it wouldn’t feel so bad if you… stayed with me instead.”

“What?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I know what you said and I wasn’t trying to take advantage of you telling me all those things about your home life. I wasn’t. I just thought I could maybe help and, you know… get to spend more time with you.”

When he put it like that, it sounded pretty decent. Hadn’t even crossed Marik’s mind back then. But then again, he hadn’t been thinking very clearly to begin with that night. 

“Well, anyway, after you stopped coming to school, for a while everything went back to normal. I only ran into those guys once and that was when they did… this.” Ryou waved his hand at the barely visible mark under his eye. “I knew you’d feel bad about it, so I didn’t come looking for you. But the teachers. Some of them were sure that it had been your doing. They thought that since you’d started acting so weird again and were skipping school that it must have been your doing. I tried to tell them no, but I didn’t… since I didn’t tell them about those bullies, there wasn’t really anything I could have said.”

“After you ran off yesterday, I knew I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore. I couldn’t keep trying to hide it. You were going to get in trouble just because I couldn’t open my mouth. I couldn’t let that happen. So first I talked Yugi and the others. They were… they were horrified.” Ryou looked down at his hands, stretching his fingers in thought. “Jounouchi especially. I think he blames himself for the whole thing. I tried to tell him not to, but honestly… when he sets his mind on something, he’s going to hold onto it stubbornly until it’s run its course. They urged me to go to the teachers. I told them mostly everything and they didn’t believe me at first. Thought that I was covering for you out of fear or something. But with Yugi and the others there with me, we had them convinced. A lot of the teachers wanted to believe the best of you,” he said, smiling sadly at Marik. “They really like what they’ve been seeing. You changing, that is. They aren’t too pleased with you skipping school, though.”

Ryou rubbed his hands together nervously. “The teachers called the police. Had to re-tell the story for the third time then. I gave them the description of the guys that had beaten me. I left out the part about you running in after them, though. Not sure if it helped at all, but there’s that.”

“Well, anyway, when the police found those guys, they found them… beating you. Caught them just in time, too.”

Huh. All of that while he’d been out running about. Maybe he should have contacted the authorities instead of running head first into trouble. 

Well. Yeah. Marik already knew that. Knew it back then, too, probably. Hadn’t been in his right mind to think much about it, though. That was the big problem in all this, wasn’t it? He hadn’t stopped to think. And it could have ended really badly. 

“I’m just glad its over now,” Ryou sighed. He scooted closer to Marik. “Can I… Could I ask you something?”

He looked at Ryou, puzzled. Why would he even need to ask? “Sure,” he said and shrugged. 

“Can I call you your first name?”

Marik stared at Ryou, waiting for him to continue. Ryou looked at him uncertainly, tilting his head forward apparently just so he would have to look at Marik through his lashes. Did he know what that did to him? Surely not? 

“Marik.”

The name sent shivers down Marik’s spine. Ryou was looking at him, waiting for his response. 

When none came, his expression dropped a little. 

“I mean, if it makes you feel uncomfortable – “

“No! I mean, no, I…” Marik struggled. “It’d be nice. If you called me Marik. Instead of… you know.”

Ryou broke out smiling, moving even closer. His eyes were sparkling when he put his hand on Marik’s cheek. 

“One more question,” he whispered to Marik, his breath washing over Marik’s lips. 

Marik had trouble producing the simple breathy: “Yeah,” he whispered out, eyes zeroed on Ryou’s lips. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Marik grabbed hold of Ryou’s face and brought them together as his answer. He could feel Ryou smiling against his lips, but didn’t have time to think much about it. Ryou was climbing to sit on his lap and Marik wasn’t sure where to put his hands. One found its way to Ryou’s hip, probably holding way too tight, the other wound into Ryou’s hair, too afraid to let go like the boy was going to disappear if he didn’t hold on properly. 

Their third shared kiss was far from the shy and careful peck in the hospital. It was messier, more desperate and clumsy. But Marik would have wanted it no other way. Ryou was holding onto the front of his shirt like a dying man. Neither of them had much experience with kissing, but both of them were willing to learn. 

Their third shared kiss was so far the best. But Marik was going to have to keep experimenting to see what the future would hold. His hand in Ryou’s hair landed on the boy’s neck, pulling him just a little closer, just a little more intimate. 

If this wasn’t heaven, he honestly wasn’t sure what was going to beat it. 

He wasn’t sure how long they were like that and to be honest, he didn’t really care. But apparently they were at it long enough for his mom to come back from ‘getting the groceries’. Where she had gone to get the food from, Marik wasn’t sure, but apparently it had been far enough to last an entire movie’s runtime and a conversation and left her smelling like alcohol. Ryou climbed hastily off of Marik when they heard the front door opening. 

Marik’s mother gave a long look at their disheveled state and turned to take the groceries to the kitchen. She was starting to get good at those looks.

“No sex on my sofa,” she called from the kitchen and actually had the guts to laugh at it afterwards. 

Marik could have died then and there. The shine of having a better relationship with his mother wasn’t enough to kill the embarrassment. 

Ryou was laughing as well, the bastard. He turned to look at Marik with a flushed smile. “By the way,” he said. “I really didn’t lie about liking your house that one time.”

Marik looked at him, confused. 

“How could you like it?” he asked

“How could I not?” Ryou countered, throwing his hands in the air. “It actually looks like someone lives here! At home, I always keep everything so neat, because I have no idea when dad’s going to come home. He doesn’t like it when it’s messy. There’s no personality, there’s no life. But this?” He leaned back on the sofa to look around the small and cramped living room with barely enough room in it for the television and a couch that looked like it had been in the family for generations, but not in a good way. “Sure, it’s messy. But it’s so confortable.”

Comfortable. Marik leaned back on the seat and tried to see the room through Ryou’s eyes. But all he could see was Ryou, smiling at him so bright and vibrant. 

Comfortable. Yeah. He could live with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short epilogue left!


	28. Epilogue

Life was pretty great. Two years ago, if someone had told Marik that in his future, he’d be dating Bakura Ryou, doing moderately well at school and talking to his mom, he would have probably beaten the living shit out of whoever had dared to talk to him about his personal life and spat on the poor guy after he was done. But here he was, skyping with his cousins with Ryou next to him, feeling like it couldn’t get much better than this. 

Life was pretty great. It wasn’t easy, not by a long shot. Marik had resumed going to the counselor and studying was still a struggle, but he was taking life one step at a time. And it did help to have Ryou there with him. The boy had more patience than Marik could ever gather. 

“So, summer break is approaching,” Malik said, leaning on his hand and peering at the webcam on his side. “You’re planning on visiting, right?”

Marik grunted and shrugged. He had a summer job at a local cemetery taking care of the grounds there. He had plans on saving up for the trip already. “Yeah.”

“Great!” Malik said, leaning back. “And Ryou should come too. Rishid is going to be gone for most of the summer, so his room’s going to be free.”

“Oh, I’d love to come!” Ryou said. “It’s been such a long time since I’ve been to Egypt. And maybe I could go and say hi to dad if he’s still at the excavation site by that time.”

“See?” Malik said. “Now you have to come. Your boyfriend’s coming too.”

“I already told you I was coming,” Marik grumbled. 

They’d been officially going out a little after his hospital visit. The school rumor mill had been on fire for _weeks._ It had been really frustrating to listen to the wildly inaccurate stories spun by people who had no idea what had really happened. The beginning had been hard. But having Ryou there to hold his hand was calming enough that Marik had managed not to start any fights. 

And then there was the… Friendship Gang. Dating Ryou had inevitably forced him to spend more time with them. Actually talk to them. Spend school lunches sitting at their tables. And they were actually… pretty cool. 

Mutou had been the first to welcome him to their group. Of course. Should have known. The pipsqueak was too fast to trust and too willing to forgive. But having Ryou at his one side and Mutou the other warmed the rest of the group enough to have them let him stay. And now they were… friends. 

It was still a little weird. But Marik supposed Katsuya wasn’t that bad. They actually had a lot in common, Marik found out after spending time with the guy. 

They ended the skype call. Ryou set down his laptop and starched over his bed, almost crunching up some cards he’d left on the cover. Marik had seen him playing the game with Mutou, Mazaki and Katsuya during breaks. 

“Have I ever told you how handsome your cousin is?” Ryou asked, flushing a little. 

Marik huffed and looked away. He wasn’t jealous, he tried to tell himself. But lying to himself wasn’t that good of a trait. “That ugly mug?” he asked. “He’s basically identical to me.”

“I know,” Ryou said looking at him with bright eyes. He flashed a small but brilliant smile.

Marik’s words got stuck in his throat. He leaned back on the wall behind him. They were sitting in Ryou’s room, Ryou’s lovely, messy room. It was Ryou’s turn to choose a movie and Marik had already chosen the best pillow of the house to work as his comforter during the hours to come. It was just like drinking tea, he had told Ryou once. He might not have liked it much, but he liked the company. But they had all the time in the world right now, in this room. 

Marik leaned over Ryou, putting his arm over the boy’s head, letting his hair fall down on his face. Ryou laughed, trying to swipe off the ticklish strands. 

“Handsome, huh?” he asked. 

“What?” Ryou said that and laughed. “Who said that? Not me.”

Marik chuckled and crossed the distance between them, kissing Ryou. 

Ryou let out a pleased noise, running his fingers into Marik’s terrifying mess of hair. Marik leaned even closer, unable to get enough of his boyfriend. 

Boyfriend. For a long time it had been hard to even think. He was dating Ryou. Ryou Bakura. 

Who would have known. 

He pulled back a little, looking Ryou in the eye. 

He could drown in those eyes. 

Ryou squirmed a little to get a better position, when they both heard it. Something getting smushed under Ryou’s back. 

“Oh, crud,” Ryou muttered, pushing at Marik. “I’m crumpling my cards!” He rolled out from under him and gathered the cards into a neat deck, frowning at a card he had damaged with his movements. 

“What’s that?” Marik asked, picking the card from his hands and turning it around. It had a picture of some sort of a… wand on it? Maybe? ‘Monster Reborn’ was written at the top of it. 

“Oh,” Ryou said. “Have you ever tried Duel Monsters?”

Marik looked at the boy shuffling his deck. He liked the smile spreading on that face. It was a smile that promised a challenge. And Marik was up for whatever challenge Ryou had in mind. He shook his head to Ryou’s question. 

“Here, let me teach you the rules. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! Hope you liked it.


End file.
